


The 6 Times Peter Wanted To Reveal his Identity (And the 1 Time He Did)

by Spongeekat



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety Attacks, Deadpool has a daughter, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Reveal, M/M, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter chasing Wade, Peter has anxiety, Prompt Fill, Secret Identity, Spideypool Big Bang 2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-06-10 21:12:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 28,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15300141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spongeekat/pseuds/Spongeekat
Summary: "Look, I’m just a Deadpool. I know I’m not Dr. Phil. But I couldn’t just let you make some bad decision and let the world lose one more hot piece of ass. Anyways, I live in the area and saw you standing on the ledge, and I thought I could maybe talk you down. Dying hurts, in case you were wondering. It’s not worth it.” Dying...hurts? Talk him down? Bad decision?Oh.“Oh.”  Everything suddenly connected and the gears started turning in Peter’s brain. “No, wait, I wasn’t…” He didn’t quite know how to explain he wasn’t there to do that without completely explaining why he was up there in the first place. Any resolve he may have had earlier about revealing his superpowered persona had melted away, his plans going awry within seconds. "Or Peter is madly in love with Wade, and plans to meet him on top of his apartment building to reveal his identity. Wade thinks Peter is standing on the ledge ready to jump, and takes it upon himself to make sure he gets home safe and finds a reason to live again.





	1. Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> A day late, but here is my part for the Spideypool Bang 2018!
> 
> A HUGE thank you to my beta Alukerofnote on Tumblr! 
> 
> My prompts were 50 and 53;  
> Secret Identities-  
> Wade finds Peter on a roof and panics. It looks like that kid is about to jump. 
> 
> Peter is waiting for Deadpool to confess who he is. He’s so deeply in love that it both hurts and annoys him. He wants to come clean. So why does Deadpool freak out when he sees him? 
> 
> If Peter actually has the guts to reveal his identity- he isn’t sure. 
> 
> #2 
> 
> After a big fight in NYC, Spider-Man swings away and hides himself in a treehouse in a small garden. Ellie finds spider-Man crying his heart and soul out in her fortress. 
> 
> But seriously, he’s just one spider and has worries too! 
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for following! This fic will take part over 7 days, and each day will be a chapter.

Januarys in the Bronx were some of Peter’s least favorite parts of the year. It was common knowledge that winters weren’t completely erratic in New York, though they couldn’t be described as tame either. They resided in a gray-area between, in which snow could unpredictably monopolize city blocks on any given day, yet a few layers of clothing would typically suffice for warmth when navigating the city. Still, the chill had a vicious bite to it, and it wasn’t wise to wander the streets longer than needed. 

 

Especially not when suspended 44 feet above the street, clad only in a hasty assemblage of light winter clothes. 

 

Yet, that’s what Peter was currently dressed in; a beanie thrown over his curly hair that would normally be standing every which way it pleased, a light hoodie that had been crumpled underneath textbooks in his backpack for hours, and a pair of worn-out jeans that had seen better days. It was a poor excuse for an outfit considering the length of time Peter had been standing on the roof of this building, and by all means of the word he was completely frozen. Still, the nip of the night wasn’t the most pressing issue on his mind at the moment. 

 

Peter’s eyes searched the darkened alley below his feet for any sign that he should abandon his current plans and instead send himself flying back towards his meager Queens apartment twenty minutes away. An hour of of looking for a reason to leave had proven no such luck, and the 22 year old was stuck waiting to freeze to death, or for his guest of the hour to show up. Whichever happened first. He hoped he would freeze to death sooner, to save himself the horrible embarrassment he was about to go through, but his radioactive blood and slow- but present-healing factor assured that wouldn’t be happening. Instead, he was running through dialogues and scenarios in his head, hoping one would sound the most promising and he could stick with it. 

 

“Hey, dude, it’s me!” The corner of Peter’s lips drew up in a theatrical style, and he beamed off into the empty night as if he was conversing with someone else standing right in front of him. “I know this isn’t really what you expected, but I hope that… that you… that... stupid. This is stupid. I’m stupid.” Peter’s shoulders sagged once again, and he toed a pebble until it tumbled off the ledge he was pacing on, clattering onto the fire escape below.  _ This is a stupid plan.  _

 

The  _ very affordable  _ apartment building below him was quiet, and the particular apartment he had been staking out was empty. Wade wasn’t inside, likely off on one of his ethically-questionable jobs, but he would probably be back soon. He and Peter always met up sometime between 1 and 3 AM when their schedules allowed, and it was Sunday, which meant Wade was gonna come back toting fast food for the two to munch on. He was expecting Spider-Man, which would certainly put a damper on their late-night snacking, but hopefully things would go smoother than Peter feared they would go. After all, Peter was finally going to reveal his face to Wade. 

 

It wasn’t a hasty decision. Really, Peter had been considering taking this step for years. The two had been acquaintances for 6 years, meeting just a year after the Spider had gained his super powers and taken on his hero persona. It was a terrible first meeting, and their encounters afterwards had been even more so. Somehow, between the nights of Wade annoying Peter for hours on end, accidental team ups that led to purposeful team ups, and laughter once the mercenary had learned exactly how to prod at Peter’s similarly immature sense of humor, they had become friends, and had grown close over the last 4 years. And of that time, Peter had been completely and pathetically in love with Wade for 2 years. 

 

Wade didn’t know, of course. The only person that did was Mary Jane, after Peter ranted about his frustration with the stagnant nature of their relationship during a drunk stupor. But she was the only person Peter had told. Confessing his feelings to Wade was out of the question.  He had grown comfortable with the weird relationship that had formed between them over the time they’d spent together. They spent nearly all of their free time together, whether it was fighting on patrol or Peter accompanying Wade on missions to hold him to the ‘no-killing’ promise the ex-mercenary had made. Once patrols were done, they typically retired to a roof top to spend the night munching on late-night fast food, or to Wade’s apartment to play games and deal with open wounds that needed stitching. Wade never pushed to see Peter’s face or know his name, even if Wade hadn’t been very secretive with his own identity. But Peter knew that, no matter how close Spider-Man and Deadpool grew as friends, their relationship would never grow  _ intimate _ unless Wade got to know the man behind the mask first. . 

 

So there Peter was, anxiety bubbling hot on the surface of his skin, as he wrung his hands and tried to plan how exactly he would come out and admit he was Spider-Man. 

 

Maybe he could do a flip iconic to Spider-Man and let Wade make his own inferences? Wade seemed to be the type to enjoy dramatic stunts. Or maybe he could introduce himself in a method similar to Tony Stark.  _ Peter Parker: Awkward, Intelligent, Poor College Student, and Spider-Man.  _ No, that was lamer than any of his other plans. This would be easier if he had just worn his suit and ripped off his mask, but he knew that if he had, he would have lost his nerve upon seeing him and never gone through with the reveal. He stepped up onto the ledge of the roof and looked down into the dark with a frown. His backpack containing his suit was webbed to the wall feet under him. Maybe he could just open the bag and show Wade what was inside…?

 

Peter didn’t have much time to decide, as a soft rattle against the brick wall opposite of him drew his attention. Leather boots were scuffling up the rungs of the ladder leading up, and Peter had to make up his mind quick. He closed his eyes and balanced on the ledge under his feet, steadying his frayed nerves. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Wade was understanding. Wade was kind. But maybe he didn’t want to know Peter’s identity? Maybe he never pushed so he wouldn’t be disappointed by the face under the mask? God, what if Wade turned and walked completely out of his life once he realized Spider-Man was a puny science nerd? The possibilities were firing off in his head, growing more intense every inch Wade grew closer. Maybe he should just jump down into the alley and take off running, and abandon this idea that somehow this would lead to something more between them. Peter didn’t even know if Wade returned his feelings.

 

“Don’t do it.” 

 

Wade was a few feet behind Peter, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. His voice was lower than Peter remembered, and a bit more serious. It jarred Peter enough that he turned back to look at him, still perched on the raised borders of the roof. There he stood in his red-and-black glory, his body language tenser than normal. Peter’s mouth was too dry to talk now, panic radiating through his body in waves. He hadn’t come up with a proper plan for this conversation, and he suddenly didn’t know how to start it. His lips parted to say Wade’s name, confused by the aggressive demeanor, but the syllables died on his tongue. 

 

Wade took a few steps that seemed almost hesitant towards Peter, reaching out a large gloved hand in his direction. Did he already know? He sure was acting weird, especially considering  _ everything _ Wade did was weird. Instinctively Peter reeled back, one foot skidding against the concrete as he inched closer to the edge, the cold winter wind now flowing up through his hair. 

 

“Uh…” Peter replied intelligently, eyes darting anywhere but that intimidating mask staring directly at him. 

 

“Come down from there.” Wade’s hand was a few inches in front of Peter now, close enough he could comfortably reach out and grab it if he wished. And boy did he want to, but he was much too nervous and befuddled to take such a brash action. Peter was sure there was no way Wade  _ didn’t  _ know at this point. Why would he be acting so casual? “Trust me, things can’t be that bad. I’ve been through shit, too. But you don’t want to become another statistic.” 

 

“What?” Now Peter was  _ definitely _ lost. 

 

“Come on.” Wade prompted again, sticking his hand so close it nearly bumped into Peter’s chest. “Not tonight. Just get down from the ledge.” 

 

Confusion clearly etched across his expression, Peter stepped around Wade’s hand and made the jump to land on the roof. There was an audible breath of relief from behind Wade’s mask when his feet connected with the gravel. His body language seemed to loosen up, and he plopped down to sit on the ledge where Peter’s feet just were. “What’s your name?”

 

“P-Peter?” 

 

“Peter.” Wade repeated back, as if he somehow could have heard the wrong thing. “That’s kinda nerdy.” 

 

“Nerdy?” Peter said defensively, embarrassment flushing red over his frozen cheeks, darkening them further. 

 

“Yep. I think the last Peter I met was like 50 years old.” Wade continued on, humor splaying out in every word, though Peter wasn’t laughing. “That’s like a lock-you-in-the-gym-closet kind of a name.” 

 

“Uh-Huh. Did you just come here to make fun of my name?” Normally, Peter wouldn’t mind the teasing that Wade often times didn’t mean. But tonight, when his anxiety was so high and he had absolutely no idea what was going on, he wasn’t in the mood to get made fun of. 

 

“No, no, of course not.” Wade was standing, now inches taller than Peter, and he took a few calm steps in his direction. “Look, I’m just a Deadpool. I know I’m not Dr. Phil. But I couldn’t just let you make some bad decision and let the world lose one more hot piece of ass.” Wade paused, groaning as if he was being scolded by himself, before he continued. “Yeah, fuck, sorry, bad timing. Anyways, I live in the area and saw you standing on the ledge, and I thought I could maybe talk you down. Dying hurts, in case you were wondering. It’s not worth it.” 

 

Dying...hurts? Talk him down? Bad decision? 

 

Oh. 

 

_ Oh.  _

 

“ _ Oh.”  _  Everything suddenly connected and the gears started turning in Peter’s brain, followed by a bubbling panic rising up from the pits of his stomach. “No, wait, I wasn’t…” He didn’t quite know how to explain he wasn’t there to do  _ that  _ without completely explaining why he was up there in the first place. Any resolve he may have had earlier about revealing his superpowered persona had melted away, his plans going awry within seconds. 

 

“Hey, I’m not judging you.” Wade insisted, taking another step closer to Peter, almost testingly, to see if he would run away. He didn’t even budge. “You’re, what, 21? In college? Living in New York? This shitty city is expensive, and paying for it all can get really overwhelming. Something happen? Parents divorce? Girlfriend left you? She’s pregnant and left you for another guy? Killing yourself seems like the only option to get back at her?” 

 

Peter gave a weak shake of his head, finding his throat suddenly desert dry. He didn’t have time to come up with an excuse. He felt like he was barely bobbing above water. “No I…”  _ What was he doing?  _ “I just have...a big decision to make. You know?” 

 

Wade gave a sympathetic nod, and moved his hand to start rubbing comforting circles into Peter’s shoulder. He could feel the steady hammer of his heart against his chest, the beat picking up nervously with Wade this close to him, staring at  _ him. _ Not the mask, not Spider-Man, but Peter Parker. “Can I take you to a hospital?” He asked in a softer voice, which didn’t seem entirely possible for Wade to do. “Like I said, I’m not a therapist, but they can help you way better than the voices in my head can.” 

 

“Hospit...Oh, no no no.” Peter held up his hands in a surrender and backed away from Wade’s grasp once more, the spot on his shoulder feeling much colder without his hand there. “No, I’m feeling a lot better. I swear. I can go home alone.” 

 

“Do you live with anyone? Parents? Roommates?” Wade continued to press the subject, and Peter took another step back with each word, feeling smothered. 

 

“I live with my Aunt.” Peter admitted, unsure why he was having the sudden spurt of bravery to say  _ that _ even if he couldn’t tell the truth about what he’d originally come here to say. “But she’s out of the country. I’ll be okay.” 

 

“Sorry, but I think I would kick my own ass if I let you leave alone and you put a bullet in your mouth.” Wade pulled his phone out of some pocket tucked who-knows-where on his suit, starting to type away the best he could through thick leather gloves. “Plus, I’ve gotten really into that astrological sign reading shit, and my horoscope said that today I was supposed to take action when I see things going bad. So I’m gonna take that to mean I’m your guardian angel.” 

 

“Guardian angel?” Peter quirked an eyebrow, trying to keep the conversation from delving into an uncomfortable seriousness.

 

“Mhm. So my first act of Guardian Angel Goodness is to make sure you get home safe.” Wade raised the cell to his ear, the sight almost comical next to his animated mask. “Luckily, I’ve got the cutest cabbie in all of New York on speed dial. You’ll love him.” 

 

Okay, so Peter had definitely been ready to lay it all out on the line for Wade a few minutes ago, but now everything felt like it was moving too fast. He planned to show Wade where he lived in a few weeks or months, not within minutes. But somehow, he didn’t think he’d take no for an answer right now, so Peter decided he’d have to play along. Just for now, until he found a good moment to interject and tell Wade the truth. His floundering confidence was making that difficult, however. 

 

While Peter was lost in his thoughts, Wade had finished his conversation with whoever was on the other end of the line, and had gathered himself enough that he was tugging on Peter’s arm. “Ready?” 

 

“Uhhh….” Peter’s eyes trailed up to Wade’s mask, his nerves firing off as the skin he touched seemed hotter than normal. “I’ll meet you down there.” 

 

“Please don’t tell me I already fucked this up and you’re ready to take a nose-dive into the alley.” Wade groaned, his hand squeezing just a little tighter on Peter’s arm, making a shiver run up his spine. 

 

“No, I just need to think for a second.” Wade didn’t respond, and Peter could practically see him thinking the worst. “I won’t jump. I promise, dude.” 

 

“Okaaaaay.” Wade headed towards the fire escape from where he had first come, stooping to grab the bag of food on his way. “Just know I live around this shit hole, and your body won’t get cleaned up for like a week. I don’t really wanna smell rotten flesh around here every day.” 

 

“Has anyone ever told you how sensitive you are?” Peter murmured.

 

Wade’s laugh that followed made Peter’s heart leap in his chest, but he kept a cool face. “It’s a special talent of mine.” He teased, before he slid down the ladder and disappeared in the dark. 

 

Alone, Peter slipped to his knees, palming the darkened side of the building until his fingers brushed against the canvas of his backpack. He ripped it free of the webs, double checked that his suit was still inside, and slung it over his back. Before he headed down, however, he had to focus on pacifying his erratic heartbeat. 

 

Disappointment was evident in his mind, in both himself, and the way the situation had played out. He’d been picturing and planning for this moment- albeit not  _ well _ \- for close to a year. He may have lost his resolve within seconds of seeing Wade, but there was no way he was going to let himself keep this up. 

 

Peter had  _ very _ strong feelings for Wade, beyond a stupid puppy crush, and he hoped the other maybe felt the same. He knew he had to take this step, whether it went as smoothly as he dreamed out or not, and there was no use in pretending any longer if he wanted to have a chance of progressing their relationship. . 

 

When Peter got to the bottom rung of the ladder, however, and saw Wade holding the door to the cab open for him like the most unconventional disney prince ever, he decided it would be better to do it in a more private area, so he gave the driver his address and climbed onto the torn up upholstery. 

 

…..

 

Wade, who lived in an absolute  _ wreck _ of a safehouse, was unfairly unimpressed with Peter’s apartment. 

 

It was messy, sure, but it wasn’t horrible. The dishes were only sort of piled up in the sink, and his dirty laundry was sitting in a heap in front of the TV, but with Aunt May gone Peter had had more time and freedom to be Spider-Man, and chores were the last obligation on his mind. 

 

Not knowing this, of course, Wade made a disgusted noise as soon as they opened the door on the third story.

 

“What?” Peter asked self consciously, toeing off his shoes in the doorway as to not track in mud. At least he had one thing going for him. Wade didn’t seem the share the same sentiment, and he trudged right in in his dust-caked boots. 

 

“No wonder you’re depressed. You live only slightly better than me.” Wade snorted, his mask turning every which way as he took in the plain furnishings of the living room. His thumb jut out towards the half-opened bedroom door. “This is your bedroom?” 

 

“Yeaaah.” Peter trailed his gaze, trying to recall if he left anything incriminating on his floor. However, he definitely didn’t want images of Wade in his bedroom stuck in his head at night, so he didn’t invite him in. 

 

Wade studied his face and walked over to Peter, gently pushing him until he fell back on his couch. “Sleeping in beds is overrated anyways. Besides, you can watch TV until I get this food reheated.” He glanced back at the screen and kicked the clothes out of the way, giving Peter a full view of it. “Blanket closet?” 

 

“Next to the kitchen.” Peter frowned, shifting uncomfortably at the favors. “I-It’s really okay, you already helped me get home and-” 

 

“Sssh. Just watch your show, Petey.” Wade said obnoxiously as he drug a fluffy comforter from the closet and dumped it on top of Peter’s lap. “Your microwave isn’t a disaster, too, is it?” 

 

“Shut up. It’s fine.” Peter groaned and sunk into the comforter up to his chin. Being babied was really humiliating, but he was still working on a good time to interject his confession in a way that didn’t seem too forced. 

 

There was a beeping indicating Wade was fiddling with his appliances in the kitchen, and Peter took the chance to close his eyes. “I’m Spider-Man.” He whispered to himself, his voice shakier and quieter with each syllable. “Surprise.” 

 

“Hope you like Chinese.” Wade returned soon after with the bag of food, dropping the sides and silverware at Peter’s side before he handed him the foam take-out container. Peter gingerly accepted it, guilt pulling at his stomach. “I had a hot date tonight, but he didn’t show up. So you get to eat it instead.” 

 

“I don’t wanna take y-” 

 

“Eat it.” Wade crooned in a cartoony voice, and reached into his back pocket. He produced his phone again, tossing it at Peter, which he smoothly caught. “And give me your number.” 

 

“Why?” Peter asked, nervous fingertips lingering over the touch screen. 

 

“Because I’m trying to make a change in my life. I’m not the same man I was a year ago.” Wade paused, sinking down to sit on the coffee table across from Peter as it creaked under his weight. “Okay, maybe I am, but I wanna be more of a hero. And the only way I can do that is by saving people like Spider-Man would do. So I need your number, to make sure you text me at least once a day so I know you’re still alive.” 

 

The mention of ‘Spider-Man’ had Peter’s fingers twitching again around the cracked phone case, but he couldn’t find the right way to voice his truth, so he stayed quiet instead.  _ Hey, funny thing, that’s saving people like  _ I  _ would do.  _

 

“Type it.” Wade whispered in a dorky voice, pulling Peter back to the present moment. His hands moved on his own, and suddenly his actual number appeared on the phone log. There was another entry on the phone, under the name Spidey-Cakes with an eggplant emoji following. That was his burner number, luckily, with that cheap flip phone shoved somewhere in his room. Still, Wade being able to contact Peter at all hours of the day now was making him nervous. He would never catch a break. 

 

Wade snatched the phone back with excitement after he verified Peter had, indeed, typed an actual phone number, and he plugged it into his contacts under some name Peter wasn’t aware of. He then shoved the smartphone back into his pocket, and placed one heavy hand on top of Peter’s shaking shoulder. 

 

“I’m gonna leave because I know I’m worse company than Alec Baldwin and Adam Sandler combined, but don’t do anything drastic, okay?” Wade’s mask never changed, lifeless as always, but Peter could hear the warm smile in his voice. His heart rate picked up, the close proximity between them making his chest ache, but the fact that he hadn’t accomplished what he’d even stayed out to do was still weighing heavily in the air. He couldn’t leave off on this! He wasn’t a depressed teenager that needed babysitting. He was Spider-Man. He was Wade’s best friend. He was  _ in love  _ with him. 

 

Before he knew it the mercenary was at the door, fiddling with the deadbolt to figure out how to lock it on his way out. Peter jumped, pushing the Chinese food and the blanket aside, shooting up to the flats of his feet with his eyes wide. “Deadpool.” He tried to sound firm, but his voice came out smaller than he had intended. 

 

The mercenary looked up, finally managing to flip the deadbolt to lock so he could slam it shut behind him. “Yes, sweet pea?” 

 

Peter’s jaw tightened, and he stood there blankly like an idiot for a solid 30 seconds. “I’m…” The words were caught in his lungs, feeling so incredibly foreign and heavy that he couldn’t get them out. He hadn’t told anyone, not even Aunt May, and Mary Jane had found out on her own. He didn’t exactly have practice with this. 

 

“You’re…?” 

 

Drawn back to reality as he realized he had been silent, Peter swallowed back his confession and slowly sunk back to the couch. “Thanks. For everything.” He murmured, dragging guilty eyes down to his hands. 

 

Wade paused, then slowly crept out the door with a hop to his step. “No problem, baby boy. Stay safe. And make sure to text me tomorrow!” 

 

The door closed hard behind Wade as he slammed it shut in an attempt to get the deadbolt to stay locked, and the silence settled over Peter like a heavy blanket. Suddenly he was alone, albeit with warm food at his side and comfortably tucked into the couch cushions. Wade was right; the idea of passing out in the living room instead of his bedroom seemed a little more enticing with every moment. 

 

He drug the food Wade had brought him onto his lap and flipped on a cartoon. He was feeling a little tired, anyways, so patrol could wait an hour or two. The Chinese smelled  _ amazing _ compared to the toaster waffles he’d been downing for days, and sleepiness hung over his eyelids.

 

Wade had been so incredibly sweet, Peter wasn’t sure what to do with the memory of it. Mixed emotions were plaguing his gut, but above all, it had reminded him of how intensely he had feelings for the man, and how badly he wanted to have a connection with him. 

 

Tomorrow, he decided, he would find a way to tell him the truth. 

 

For now, he was falling asleep to the lull of New York late night TV, the scent of Chow Mein wafting up to his nose, and the ghost of Wade’s voice calling him sweet pea playing hot in his mind.

 


	2. Monday

**Day 2- Monday**

 

“Peter?” 

 

“Five more minutes, May…” 

 

“Peter, dude, your phone won’t stop buzzing and the professor is getting annoyed.” 

 

Professor? Shit.

 

Peter shot instantly awake, the blurry image of Mary Jane’s fire red hair permeating his sleep-heavy eyes. He gingerly picked his sore body up until he was sitting up, wiping the moisture that had gathered on his forehead away. As promised, the professor was making direct eye contact with him while she continued to speak, and her finger pointed sharply at Peter’s cell sitting on the edge of his desk. Sheepishly, he retrieved it and mouthed an apology. His thumbs drug the notification screen down, finding a few texts from an unknown number. He absently tried to listen to the lecture, but he must have slept through quite a few key concepts, because he had no idea what was being discussed. Well, just another night he’d have to spend teaching himself from the textbook. 

 

Curiously he swiped until he arrived at his texting app, and the harassment he was receiving suddenly made sense. 

 

**hey petey-pie checkin in since u didnt message me**

 

**luv dp**

 

**u getting these???????? is this a fake number?**

 

**pls tell me u didnt die.**

 

**hellooooooooooooooo**

 

**im gonna sing until you answer**

 

**since uve been gone i been lost without a trace**

 

**i dream at night only i can see ur face**

 

**i look around but its u i cant replace**

 

**i feel so cold and i long 4 ur embrace**

 

**i keep cryin baby BABY PLEASE**

 

**OH CANT U SEEEEEEE**

 

**holy fuck balls this dude wont put down his gun ill finish the song later but pleeaaaaseee text me back <3 or ill come over **

 

That last text was sent 3 minutes ago, and Peter could only imagine his poor next door neighbors’ faces if Deadpool decided to show up at their door. He hurriedly typed up a reply before that chance even came close to becoming reality, trying to ignore the romantic connotations of the song. 

 

**Sorry. In class. I’m doing fine. Not dead. Please don’t stop by. I live next to an elderly Hispanic woman that would have a heart attack if she saw you.**

 

There was a uniform page turn in the rows surrounding him, and he took that as his cue to flip the page in his book. Wade hadn’t responded yet, and Peter briefly considered dipping out of school to make sure Mrs. Moreno wasn’t calling the police if Wade really had decided to show up. 

 

**i was calling my ride but im glad to hear back from u**

 

**do u need anything??**

 

**warm milk, a big hug, an xbox one?**

 

“Who are you texting? You look like a dork.” 

 

Mary Jane’s whispers distracted Peter from his stupor, and he realized then he had a grin tugging at his lips that had only appeared upon reading his texts. He wiped the stupid look from his face and sucked in a breath to give a well-thought out reply. “No one.” 

 

“Ah.” The redhead pressed the tip of her pen against her rosy lips, giving Peter a knowing smile that had heat crawling up his neck. “A guy?” 

 

“Oh my god, MJ, it’s not like that. I’m just on an app.” Peter whispered back more insistently, flipping his phone over on the desk. “Just funny pictures.” 

 

“Mhmmm.” Mary Jane’s hum was too insincere, and it was clear she wasn’t about to let this go. “Well, you should get back to your ‘funny pictures’ before they disappear.” 

 

“I will.” Peter murmured and swiped his phone from the desk, tucking it back under the edge of the desk. His eyes read over Wade’s texts a few more times, a few different responses dancing on his fingertips, before he finally decided to type. 

 

**I’ll be fine. Thanks for checking in.**

 

In truth, these past few weeks had been brutal. Between tensions building in the city, accompanied by the rise of crime, and the press being hot on his ass every time he missed an opportunity to bring someone in to justice, he had been missing sleep and stressing harder about trying to become a more efficient hero in the city. The meal that Wade had forced on him was the first time he’d even touched real food in almost 2 weeks. Being pressured to have a ‘night-in’ had taken quite a lot of stress off of Peter’s shoulders for at least a day, but it also meant his body realized he was willing to let it rest for a little bit and was fighting him to try to catch up on more sleep. While the night before had been completely humiliating, it had been relaxing to be taken care of. For a little bit he and Wade had acted like more than a set of heroes, and the memory of his kindness was still burning hot in his mind. 

 

But he wouldn’t let this go on for longer than a day. It was wrong to lie to him, even if it felt this good to pretend. 

 

\----

 

Being Spider-Man was simultaneously the biggest stressor and most freeing part of Peter’s day. 

 

Saving lives and stopping crimes ranging from petty car thieves to mutant bank robbers was difficult. Balancing two lives that intermingled more often than Peter would have liked was even more difficult, often lying to the people he cared about the most just to keep them safe. It was hard navigating the grey-area between morally just and lawfully sound, and there were multiple occasions in which he felt like a criminal running from police after just  _ busting _ a potential felon doing potentially bad things. He operated more along the lines of a vigilante than a hero in most cases, and it took a severe toll on his mental health. Especially lately, when the city seemed to be getting more dangerous as the presence of superpowered people increased, he had been slandered in media every which direction. Even Mary Jane praising his decisions had stopped helping. He felt like he was starting to become completely alone in the heroing thing. 

 

And then there were the nights he was over the moon with ecstasy; adrenaline buzzing low in his ears, wind rushing up the corners of his mask and breezing over his lips, his webs snapping out from his wrists and catching his fall in perfect rhythm so he soared through the low city buildings like a bullet, his worries and stress melting off every second he spent in the air. Peter’s own personal drama and angst seemed to matter less when his focus was on helping others. No matter what was happening in his own life, he left it on the sill of his bedroom window. When he was out on the streets he was Spider-Man, not a kid struggling to keep his head above water. He had strength, allies, and a will to do good. Grades and sleep felt way less important than his obligation to New York. 

 

Still, there were slip ups. Sometimes his lives intermingled uncomfortably close and he was left covering for both of his personas. 

 

Peter didn’t expect Deadpool to be at this fight. His fists were preoccupied knocking a goon on his ass when the sharp  _ zing _ of sharpened metal cut close to his ear. His spidey senses hadn’t gone off, warning him of the impending sword, and when he jut his chin back to check who was behind him, he knew why. They never went off when he was around Wade anymore, because he wasn’t in danger around him. 

 

That didn’t stop the anxiety that flooded his chest cavity a second later, however. He had gotten close to making a smartass comment so they could commence their banter that took place during every fight, when the memory of who he was under the mask- who Wade was now acquainted with- hit him hard. 

 

Shit. 

 

“You weren’t planning to keep a good fight like this from bad ol’ me, were you? Spidey, I’m shocked!” Wade greeted as he kicked back one of the men running at him with a bat, slicing the object in two. He’d gotten pretty good at the injuring and the take-downs without the actual murder. Peter grunted in response, maintaining his focus on jabbing, webbing, and jumping out of the way when his instincts called for it. “And here I was, hoping I’d see that tight butt come swinging past me tonight.” 

 

“Not now.” Peter muttered, ducking just in time to miss getting his skull bashed in by a dude with a crowbar. Why crowbars? Why were henchmen so obsessed with their crowbars? 

 

“Aww, okay, I see. You’re mad at me. Was it for ditching you last night? Because I swear, I was doing good! See, there was this kid about to do a triple flip face plant into the asphalt behind my apartment, and I really wanted to make sure he was okay, ‘cause he was alone and it was late and stuff, and-” 

 

“Can you not talk for like, a second?” Peter didn’t mean to use such an aggressive tone, especially not on Wade who deserved it the least, but hearing Wade talk about him  _ to _ him when he didn’t even mean to… it was making his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He slammed his knuckles into the jaw of one of the larger men surrounding him, receiving a crack in return. Oof, that would leave a bruise. 

 

“Oooookay, Spider-ooni. I’ll let you focus.” Wade forfeited easily, catching a heavily swung and splintering 2 x 4 with his forearm. 

 

Peter released a satisfied sigh that he didn’t really mean, his lean body hopping out of the way of a kick to the side before he shot a web at the attacker’s face. 

 

\---

The fight only lasted another few minutes. The goons, that had decided to test their pride rather than flee the scuffle they were at a clear disadvantage in, ended up face-down on the pavement, hands bound in web-handcuffs, and with a few broken noses or crooked arms scattered among them. Peter had been a bit too forceful tonight, he could admit, but it had been hard enough to focus on reeling in his strength when there was someone else on his brain. 

 

And then said man had showed up and blew his head right open. 

 

They were currently kicked back on a vacant apartment balcony, Peter sitting on the rails while Wade stood a few feet away but very much present, pulling off his gloves to assess the extent of the blood stains on his armor. It was chilly, and Peter knew he’d have to head home soon, but he couldn’t really deny Wade’s invitation to hang out for a little bit after all he had done for him the night before. 

 

Even if Wade didn’t know he was the same kid he’d been ‘saving.’. 

 

“Soooo…” Wade cut into his thoughts, his voice drawing Peter’s attention back to the surface. He glanced over at his fighting partner, surprised to see his face aiming off somewhere else. Wade acting timid was an odd sight. “You okay?” 

 

“Huh?” Peter’s stomach churned and he blinked, even if the action was hidden by lenses. “Yeah?” No. “Why?”

 

“You’ve been acting funny, that's all.” Wade shrugged, and tucked his arms up against the balcony to lean on the rails. “You avoided me like all last week.” 

 

“What? No I didn’t.” Peter said defensively, confusion clear in his voice. He had been making his plans for days, and sure, that may have lead to him feeling too awkward to really hang around Wade, but they just hadn’t seen each other that was all. 

 

He hadn’t made an effort to find him until that night, though, either. 

 

Wade paused, as if he was thinking of responding but decided against it, before his tone changed and he seemed to drop it all together. “Well, it’s okay, I did a lil’ heroing on my own anyways.” 

 

“Oh really?” Peter asked with awkward amusement, tucking his ankles between the vertical railings to keep his balance a little better. 

 

“Yup. I stopped a kid from killing himself  _ and _ I’ve been checking up on him every day. I figured you’d be proud of me since you like all that righteous stuff.”

 

“So you only did it to impress me?” Peter asked flatly. 

 

“What? No no no, Spidey, I did it because I didn’t wanna watch another good person die alone. Plus, if he was like bad or something I wasn’t gonna try very hard, but he was  _ really hot _ \- which I know, is totally shitty to think since he was getting ready to dive, but he just seemed like a depressed nerd and I guess that might kinda be my type. Actually, that’s not entirely true, because I like when someone can make me laugh, and long walks on the beach, and...” 

 

Peter felt a tinge of jealousy in his stomach at his description of the boy he’d saved, which was ridiculous, considering it was  _ him _ . He tuned out of Wade’s ramblings and squeezed tighter onto the railing, feeling the metal bending under his fingers. Maybe it was better to keep his identities secret. After all, Wade seemed so proud of himself for ‘helping’ Peter. Was it worth taking that away? He could just avoid Wade in his personal life. The man would give up if he realized his efforts weren’t being reciprocated and Peter stopped serving as entertainment. 

 

That’s probably all he was. Charity fused with an audience. 

 

“...But I guess that’s why I dated that crazy chick two years ago. She had a super cute face but she was also obsessed with ending the patriarchy and killing men. I think she stabbed me a few times in my sleep, too. But I guess crazy and crazy make a great match. Even if we ended pretty badly.” 

 

“I think I’m gonna head back.” Peter announced, tucking his toes underneath himself until he was stood on the fence. Wade straightened, looking up at him inquisitively from the balcony floor. “I have an early morning.” 

 

“We’ll meet up tomorrow night, though, right?” Wade asked hopefully. 

 

“We’ll see.” Peter murmured, before he shot web fibers off into the dark and took off with a leap. 


	3. Tuesday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to be a short one because it's just their small interaction, but I promise the next chapter is MUCH longer! 
> 
> Sorry about skipping a week. I had a death and other stress I had to deal with and wasn't quite in the head-space to write! But this fic will continue to update as planned :)

**Day 3 - Tuesday**

 

Peter’s hand rubbed against the zipper track beginning above the curve of his spine, fingertips again coming up empty. His arms dropped uselessly against his side, groaning to audibly show his disappointment.

 

His zipper was there somewhere. He heard it dinging against the metal teeth up the length of his back, and if he kept feeling for it he would find it.

 

Peter yawned, tears peeking out from the corners of his eyes, as his fingers continued to prod in the small of his back. He was completely and utterly exhausted. The night previous perusing the city had been brimming with robberies, car jackings, and muggings, as if the slight increase in temperature prompted every convict to crawl out of their hiding spots to wreak havoc. He’d clawed himself into his bed sometime around 5 AM, caught 2 hours of sleep, and was out the door sprinting to class by 7:00. He was looking for any reason not to go on patrol, even if it was as minor as an unlocatable zipper, to at least give him a chance to rest for a few seconds.

 

His gloves eventually brushed the pull tab, and he deflated. Guess he had to finish suiting up. He tugged the zipper up to his neck and fiddled with the spandex momentarily, pulling it snug in all the right places.

 

That was, until a knock on his window pane had the tired boy jumping 5 feet in the air and throwing himself backwards into a defensive position on his furthest wall. His toes firmly drug to a stop on the wallpaper, one arm shooting out with his fingers ready to tap his web-shooters if need be. There was a muted scuffling behind the glass, though his curtains were drawn so he couldn’t see who was there. It didn’t take long to figure out, however.

 

“ _Petey, Petey, Petey, Petee-eee-ey_ ~” The intruder was caroling his name to the tune of _Jolene_ , repeating his knuckle raps obnoxiously to the beat of the song. “ _I’m begging of you please just let me in._ ”

 

“Wade?” Peter snapped as realization sunk in to his chest. It took seconds to calm his adrenaline-ridden heartbeat, more relieved that he wasn’t about to face a criminal than he was mad Wade had nearly sent him into cardiac arrest. He peeled himself silently off the wall, taking short, but annoyed, steps to stand behind the curtains without drawing them. “What the hell, dude? You scared the pants off of me. Why are you on my fire escape? And singing Dolly Parton?”

 

Wade hummed the rest of the verse to himself, presumably out of parodying song lyrics, before he started to whisper-yell. “Ignoring the fact I should _totally_ make fun of you for what you said, I’m here to check up on you! I said I was going to keep those sweet cheeks safe. Can I come in?”

 

“Into my bedroom?” Peter asked, weakly, swallowing the suggestive- but intrusive- thoughts that the question entailed. “Um, I’m kinda...preoccupied.”

 

“Ooo _oooh_?”

 

“Not like that!” Peter groaned, smacking a hand to blanket the reddening of his cheeks. God, he had to change, and fast. He tore the zipper undone he had put in so much effort to find, shoving the suit off his shoulders and hips. “Give me a second!” He kicked the rest of fabric off and lodged it under his bed, using a pillow for extra cover to be safe. His web shooters clattered into the lockable drawer on his desk, the cartridges following them. Shutting the drawer so hard it shuddered, he located the first clothing options in sight; a pair of fluffy pajama pants and an Einstein shirt 2 sizes too big (which was totally a gag gift from MJ months ago that he’d never put  away), which he shimmied into. Confident that he had _probably_ concealed every Spidey related item in his panic, he drew open the curtains and flashed Wade an unimpressed look. And there he was, in his full-suited glory, hanging upside down on the rail of Peter’s fire escape as if it was a playset.

 

“I have a few questions.” Peter said as he pushed the glass open, the screen absent due to years of him climbing out for his nightly routine. Wade didn’t seem to notice- or at least didn’t comment on the lack of one- looking ecstatic that he even answered. “First...why didn’t you call to check up on me? Or use the front door?” He gestured vaguely towards the direction of the living room to accentuate his point.

 

“You barely texted me today.” Wade answered, curling so he was sitting on top of the bar and facing Peter. The sit-up made his muscles bulge in the leather covering his thighs and abdomen and Peter inhaled carefully to maintain a level expression. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t lonely. Also, I missed you.”

 

“Good to know.” Peter rolled his eyes, watching Wade drop to hang upside-down childishly. “Just come in. You’re gonna break the rails.”

 

“Me? Getting on the VIP list to Peter’s bedroom? I feel like I got a golden ticket! Move aside, Willy Wonka!” Wade dropped himself to his hands, flipped ungracefully on his feet, and followed Peter’s lead to let him crawl inside the apartment. His muddy boots hit the carpet and he managed to pull his entire body inside the small opening. He paused upon straightening up, giving his bedroom the same scrutinizing examination he had to the living room his first time visiting. “Never mind. I wanna go outside again. You’re messy, and that’s something coming from me.”

 

Peter stared at him silently. The mercenary shrugged and half-lept to fall on top of his mattress. “Kidding. It’s cute. It fits you.”  

 

Peter did his best to ignore the creaking noise of his bed, making his way to his office chair to sit across the room. “I appreciate the housecall, but is that the only reason you came? I actually was kinda in the middle of something.”

 

“I’m hurt. I brought home-cooked meals and you already wanna kick me out?” Wade gasped in faux-pain, pulling off his pink Hello Kitty backpack. He drew out a grocery bag filled with containers, setting it beside the foot of the bed.

 

Peter was taken aback, a slightly stunned expression passing over his face. His outward appearance hardly changed, yet his stomach churned nervously at the thoughtful gesture. “You cook?”

 

“Nah, they’re frozen, but I make a mean pancake in case you’re ever interested. It’s the thought that counts though, right?”

 

“Thanks.” Peter rubbed his forearm, finding anywhere else to look to avoid staring at Wade.

 

“Soooo, what’s a kid like you busy doing tonight?” Wade asked as he stretched out across his comforter, propping his feet up on his mattress. “Playing games? Watching porn? Still wallowing about that ex-girlfriend that’s pregnant with someone else’s money-burner?”

 

“What? No, there’s no ex-girlfriend, dude, I already said that.” Peter muttered, struggling not to let his vision wander to his Spidey suit shoved  beneath Wade’s sitting place. “I have a lot of homework I have to catch up on.”

 

“Boooo-oring.” Wade kicked a few of his pillows aside, rolling onto his side as his bed squeaked again. Peter desperately needed that noise to stop if he was going to guard his sanity.

 

“Okay, well, this was a great visit and all, but you can text me next time you wanna play therapist, okay?” Peter pushed himself to his feet, walking over to offer his hand to Wade to help him up. He stood there a moment with no reaction, Wade seemingly refusing to accept it, instead sitting up on his own.

 

“Do you seriously want me to go?” Wade asked, a weird tone ebbing into his voice. Was he confused? Disappointed? Peter wasn’t .

 

“I-I mean, yeah, I already said I was busy.” He was trying to not sound as annoyed as he felt, but his throat was taut with irritation. It wasn’t quite with Wade, though, because he was trying to be nice. Mostly he was upset with himself; with his inability to execute with his plans that had landed him in a difficult situation he couldn’t imagine resolving without either or both of them ending up hurt; with his emotions that were so intense they were painful, only made worse by the fact Wade was acting so generous to him outside of his superhero identity; and with the fact Wade knew his name, his family situation, and where he lived. Yet he _still_ wasn’t able to bring himself to say that simple sentence.

 

_I’m Spider-Man._

 

He’d been ready to lay it all out on the line two days ago, albeit with hesitancy, but somehow he had convinced himself that Wade might actually start to reciprocate his feelings if he knew the man behind the mask. His gaze trailed to the plastic bag still resting on the mattress. He had gone out of his way to care for him multiple times. He might be a fun project for Wade to pass the time, but Peter didn’t think he would go this far for some kid he found fun to mess with.

 

Peter’s eyelids screwed shut, his mind piecing together a way to confront the issue. He could ask him why he was hanging around, and hopefully conversation would naturally circulate back to Sunday night. “H-Hey, Dea-”

 

“I’ll get out of your hair.” Peter suddenly felt the air change and Wade was towering him, his much larger frame barely an inch from his chest. He had to turn his head up at a steep angle to look at him. There wasn’t the usual humor in his words, and his body language was a lot more tense. Terrific. An upset Wade was never fun. He always had to dig to even get a _hint_ of what was bothering him.

 

“What?” Peter blinked, watching as Wade shimmied passed him to grab his pack and sling it on his shoulder.

 

“You said you had stuff to do. I can tell when I’m a problem, Petey-Sweetie. Glad to see you didn’t off yourself today. Good job on that.” Wade shoved the window he had come in open, poking a leg out so that it connected with the grate of the fire escape. “Call me if you need anything, okay?”

 

Peter chewed on his lower lip, his confession filed away in a queue of things to tell Wade in the future. He gave a short nod, guilt immediately radiating in the pit of his abdomen. “Thanks...for this all. Sorry to cut this so short. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

 

“You better. I’ll be waiting.” Wade dropped his pack out the sill, waiting for it to clang against the metal, then ducked his body out of the small cavity. He grabbed his bag, moved to grip onto the ladder leading down into the darkness, then craned his neck to shout one last thing. “You  should get a window screen. You’ll get spiders or ants in your room if you leave it open like this.”

 

Peter suppressed a spurt of ironic laughter, settling for an amused half-smile instead. “I’ll remember that. Goodnight, Deadpool.”

 

His weight made the ladder rattle and bang on the poles obnoxiously, probably annoying every other neighbor underneath him, until the sound disappeared and Wade had run off. Once Peter wasn’t able hear his boots scraping the asphalt he pulled his curtains shut, finally feeling able to breathe.

 

He bent to grab the meal containers, to put them in the freezer before he left for his patrol. It was quite the stock of food, enough to stop him from starving for the rest of the week that Aunt May was absent, and his stomach growled in appreciation.

 

Maybe he’d see Wade on patrol as Spider-Man, and they’d converse with the comfortable familiarity that had developed naturally between them through years. Wade would make some flirtatious joke, along with one about the spider being his hero that had the strength punch him into another timeline, and they’d team up and be on their way. Peter would be able to feel like his strong, normal self. They’d be friends and superheroes, and not a weak kid and his supposed guardian angel. No lies hanging heavily between them.

 

He’d muse on Wade’s kindness, that he didn’t deserve, later. For now, he pulled his spidey suit out  and started dragging it up his legs. He had a city to protect, people to save, and his angst would have to be put on reserve for another day.


	4. Wednesday

**Day 4- Wednesday**

 

_ God, please help me.  _

 

Peter was going to faint, he decided, as he made a sharp turn through a set of trees that nearly sent him tumbling to the ground. He barely caught himself on a low branch, his wrist locking up, and he used gravity to swing up back into the air. His stomach lurched painfully as he landed on the post of a fence, his head feeling suddenly light and the world spinning too quickly. His body went on auto-pilot and he flipped up into the next backyard, towards the tree with the thickest trunk and widest spread of leaves, which would offer the most coverage. Peter didn’t know where he was. He hadn’t been conscious enough in his own mind to map out a route. Anxiety had taken over in the last stretch of his fight, and mid-panic attack he had realized he’d taken off running. Last he remembered, he was in the heart of Manhattan. Now, he was probably on the outskirts of Queens, south of where he lived. 

 

His fingers pried open the first shelter he found, that currently being the wooden windows of a tree-house tucked into the canopy of the oak. It was already day-break, and Peter couldn’t make it home leaping through the suburbs when he was hardly able to see through his panicked fit. So he pulled himself inside, tumbling against the floorboards, and crawled up against the wall of the tree house. Trembling hands desperately pulled off his spandex mask and threw as far from him as it could fly, falling pathetically to the floor, the fabric not even making a sound. Even without the cover over his mouth, he still felt as if he wasn’t able to take in a solid breath, his lungs screaming for air and spasming as if they were flooding with fire. This wasn’t good. He was definitely going to pass out if he didn’t calm his erratic gasps. 

 

But maybe that would be better than the memory of a lifeless body sitting heavily on his palms. 

 

His patrol the night before had started out quietly. Bad guys, apparently, were also weak to the freezing temperatures, as told by empty streets and a lack of cries for help. Peter had spent half his time lazily resting on an apartment awning, watching a late-night showing of George Lopez playing on the TV across the way. The other half he was swinging through the city to stay warm, practicing parkour tricks off of roof tops that left him sinking dangerously low towards the pavement before he caught his fall and sent himself free-flying again. 

 

His shenanigans had been cut off early, however, by a terrifying screech from downtown that left his spidey senses painfully coursing up his spine. Instincts made him change his course in a split second, twisting to aim his webbing towards the east. Midtown started to come into view, along with a fire blazing black and orange against the bright billboards littering times square. Once he had turned the corner, he instantly figured out the source of the noise. In the center of the block was a human-sized rat… or more like a bald man with a rat appearance. Either way, he had been cornering a petrified couple in the doorway of a closed store, the woman attempting to rip open the locked door and screaming for help as the man tried to dislodge his bleeding arm from the rat’s mouth, teeth locked into the flesh. Passersby and locals were struggling to help, pulling and ripping at the rat-man to get him off. Their attempts were futile, however, as the rat man bit harder and his victim screamed in pain. Peter wasted no time assessing the scene; he didn’t have the luxury of figuring out a strategy before he was diving in to help. His fingers dug into the mouth of the monster and yanked his jaw open, releasing the arm, before Peter flipped away and smashed the rat’s head into the ground. He was surprised to find the monster was  _ really _ strong, almost comparably so to Peter. The rat elbowed the air out of his lungs within a second of his knees hitting the pavement, forcing him to roll off to the side to recover against the blow. 

 

“ _ Cossssstume can’t hurt Vermin.”  _ The rat, apparently named Vermin, possessed a haunting voice, and his confidence jarred Peter for only a moment. But the mask was there to always give Peter a brave profile, so he didn’t let it show. “ _ Vermin is not here alone. Vermin will feed on thissssss ssssscity.”  _

 

Peter felt the familiar sense of dread running up his body, he turned to the pedestrians gaping at the monster invading their neighborhood, his hands held out warningly. “Don’t watch! Go home! It’s dangerous!” 

 

But his warnings were disregarded. Screams erupted when a manhole burst open, a copy of Vermin crawling out onto the pavement. It was similar in appearance but different in stature, and that made Peter more nervous than any clone would have. 3 more slithered up onto the surface of the street, beady eyes focusing on the onlookers with a hunger that only meant the worst. Only then did people apparently take that as their cue to run, and the mob of rats were immediately in pace behind them. 

 

Peter, luckily, had faster reactions than the crowd. 

 

His webs attached to the backs of quickest monsters, his heels digging into the road with all his strength. They snapped to a halt, and then Peter shot more webbing to anchor their feet to the ground. He used the two as walls and slingshotted himself towards the escaping half of the group who were snapping their jaws at the fleeing men and women. He swung his foot with full force into the head of the leader of the pack, rebounding off of it and wrestling another monster to the floor. He didn’t have time to web either, having to focus instead on the last of the rats. Its claws wrapped around the torso of the slowest woman who had her child in tow, a scream tearing through her throat. The young child, in an act of bravery, had started battering his fists into the rat’s side, distracting it long enough to save his mother’s throat from being ripped open by mangled teeth. However, it also meant the rat turned its attention to the boy, and within a second a strong arm smacked against his chin and sent him flying into a brick wall. The sickening crack that followed had the mother screaming bloody murder, and Peter had just barely made it in time to save her life. 

 

The fight that followed was a blur. Peter remembered snapping the arms of the rat until he released the woman who had passed out in panic. He remembered laying hard punches into the monster’s face, and vaguely remembered feeling the full weight of the two rats he’d had to abandon launching at him from behind and knocking him to the floor. Somewhere between him being unable to breathe and thrashing for his life, an arrow sunk into the shoulder of the bigger creature. It squeaked in pain, and Peter took the chance to throw it off before setting into the other one. A loud thunk landed beside Peter, and as he looked up, he came face to face with a red, metallic exoskeleton. Beside him was a familiar archer not even looking his way, focused on shooting the monsters off to their right. 

 

“How did I know following trouble would lead us to you?” The robotic voice of Tony Stark commented. Peter jumped off the crumpled body, and small mechanisms shot out of the Iron Man suit, trapping the rat against the ground. “Need help? Again?” 

 

The words stung, but Peter grunted, another concern more pressing than being insulted by Iron Man or saved by Hawkeye. He sprinted over to where the child was still collapsed against the bricks, his eyelids shut and his lips slack. Peter lifted his body carefully, his limbs lifeless and non responsive. He listened intently for breathing, his own heart pounding louder in his ears than any other city noise. And then he saw it, a small movement of his chest, which meant he was still alive. Sirens were growing closer, and the ambulance would be there soon. The brave kid had a chance to survive. 

 

The relief didn’t last long. A tingle up Peter’s neck told him there was a fist growing closer to the back of his head. He twisted his body out of the way, the angry expression of the newly conscious woman meeting his gaze. 

 

“Some  _ fucking hero _ you are!” She sobbed as she grabbed her son forcefully, Peter releasing him without fight. He backed off, rising to his feet, and only managed to watch her grief as the mother hugged her son in close to her chest. “He’s only 8! He has a spelling bee tomorrow!  _ Why didn’t you save him _ ?!” 

 

Everyone was staring. Peter felt his breathing picking up dangerously fast, and he had no words. 

 

He should have been stronger. He should have gotten here faster.  _ Why wasn’t he strong enough to save him?  _ He wished he had a good answer. 

 

“Ben, sweetie, it’s mommy. You’re okay. You’re okay. Can you look up at me?” When there was no movement to signify he had even heard his mom’s voice, she let out a horrible scream of pain that was more haunting than all of the villains Peter had faced combined. It echoed into his core, tightened in his chest, and before he knew it he was struggling to even take a proper breath.

 

“Hey, kid, calm down.” Someone was talking to him in a soft voice, a whisper over the roaring of guilt wailing at him. Following the hand on his shoulder, he found Hawkeye staring at him with pity. “It’s not your fault. An ambulance will be here soon. You did all you could.” 

 

Peter wanted to tell him to fuck off, to take a look at what he had done- or what he wasn’t capable enough to prevent- but his throat was too tight to speak more than a few words. He pushed away the hand, his heartbroken voice only loud enough for Clint to hear. “H-His name is Ben, too.” 

 

His legs moved on their own, dragging him away from the horrible sight in whatever direction offered the tallest buildings and the easiest getaway route. Eventually the city grew unfamiliar, blurred out in the background of his peripheral vision. Colors began to meld, breaths were coming out too close together to properly tell them apart, and his entire body was aching. He hadn’t stopped moving for 45 minutes, not even when his arms screamed for a break or the buildings grew shorter and he had to resort to flipping between roofs or propelling himself up gates. And he had ended up here, in this borrowed hide-out with it’s now tear soaked wooden planks, his hand desperately clutching his chest as if he had the power to rip the pain right out of his heart. Eventually he wasn’t able to suppress the anguish any longer, and sobs started to wrack his body, shaking him to the core. Tremoring, he drew his knees up to his chest and buried his head between them, muting his whimpers and hics. The last thing he needed now was to feel so completely pathetic, but each time he thought he had started to relax, another splash of anxiety rose and pushed more tears from the corners of his eyes. 

 

The only thing that startled him from his fit was the voice of a small girl, like a hot knife digging into his stomach. 

 

“Spider-Man?” 

 

Peter’s face jerked up, his raw eyes meeting the timidly amazed ones of a girl small enough to stand in the tree-house, probably about 6. Her knuckles were white from holding on so tightly to the ladder to keep herself upright, and he couldn’t help but wonder how long she had been standing there. But before he even had the chance to worry about that, reality slapped him in the cheek when he realized his mask was behind her in the corner of the tree house where he had discarded it. 

 

His lips opened to speak and deny it, but a shuddering breath forced its way up his throat and he promptly shut his mouth. 

 

“Spider-Man, are you okay?” The young girl asked, taking his silence as permission to climb inside the cramped space. He flattened himself up against the wall, splinters digging through his suit, to maintain the distance between them. Her black curls bounced against her cheek bones, a concerned expression searching his red face. “Why were you crying?” 

 

Peter swallowed the knot in his throat, the palm of his hand scrubbing away some of the moisture on his cheeks. “I-I um..” He was a hero. He didn’t know what this girl thought of him, or what her parents might have said about him, but the fact didn’t change that he  _ knew _ kids needed strong heroes for the days they weren’t strong enough to handle things themselves.He wasn’t able to be that if he was a stuttering mess. “I had a hard night. Some people got hurt, and I had to get help to save them. It just made me sad.” His voice was a little stronger, a little more confident, but he wasn’t able to erase the grief hidden behind his words.

 

The girl nodded slowly.. “The bad guys made you cry?” 

 

Peter breathed out a short laugh, holding his head. “I guess they did. I became kind of a baby, didn’t I?” 

 

“No, you’re not a baby. My dad says that it’s okay to cry, and adults do it too. He cries all the time! Sometimes it’s ‘cause he ran out of ice cream. It’s funny. But it helps you not be so sad. So it’s okay to cry, even if you’re old.” 

 

Peter was a little stunned by her words- especially at her implying he was  _ old-  _  but the emotional intelligence of the child was heartening. She was obviously being raised well. “You’re a smart girl.” 

 

“Thanks.” Her smile was a flash of white teeth with baby gaps in between, and it instantly helped to warm Peter’s heart. “My name is Ellie.” She stuck out a small hand, and Peter carefully took it in his glove to give her a gentle hand-shake. “Can I call you Spidey? That’s what my dad calls you if he talks about you.” 

 

“Sure.” Peter smiled, a bit sheepishly, at the mention of his reputation. He silently hoped they weren’t all bad things, but he was just glad she didn’t ask for his name. However, he also saw the sun rising higher through the window of her tree house, and he knew soon it wouldn’t just be children awake in the area. “I think I gotta go, Ellie. But thank you for letting me hang out with you in your tree house. You should go back to bed. It’s really early.” 

 

“Um, wait.” 

 

Peter paused his movements of crawling towards the window, throwing a glance her way. She looked shy and embarrassed as she tugged on the hem of her pajama shirt. “My gramma is staying with me right now while my Mom and Dad are gone but she wakes up really late and I’m really hungry…” She sucked on her teeth, and Peter blinked away the confusion on his face. “Will you umm… make me breakfast? I tried waking her up but she’s snoring too loud to hear me…”

 

Out of all the requests he’d gotten from children as a hero- and he had gotten a  _ lot  _ of weird requests- this one definitely had to be simultaneously the cutest and oddest of all.  _ She wanted Spider-Man to cook her breakfast.  _ He usually got asked to beat up school bullies or save a cat from a tree, so this was a first. However, the fact she was so hungry she asked a crying superhero to make her food meant her grandma probably slept through a lot of meals. He wouldn’t let her starve. 

 

“...Sure. We gotta be fast, though, okay? And secret. ” Peter said with a soft smile, moving to pull open the door to the tree house. He figured he could make quick pancakes and be gone within an hour, well before her grandma got out of bed. Plus, seeing the grin that spread over her mouth made him glad he hadn’t said no. What else was he going to do? Go home, mope, and listen intently to the radio to see how the news tore him apart again? 

 

“Okay. Fast and secret. Like ninjas.” Ellie cheered, pumping a small fist in the air.

 

Peter grabbed his mask and slid down the ladder without even touching a step, catching Ellie when she requested to do the same thing. The two snuck across the yard in true ninja-style, the young girl adding in whispered sound effects as she half-rolled and pulled the sliding door open again she had come through earlier. Peter followed in behind her, walking into the living room to find a plainly decorated family home. As promised, no one seemed to be inside, except a cat that ran up and brushed against Peter’s leg. Cartoons played softly on the TV, and a blanket on the couch meant Ellie must have seen him crawl inside her tree-house earlier and come to find him. His tears had dried on his cheeks in the wake of their conversation, and the anxiety attack felt closer to a weight in the rear of his mind than a present threat. 

 

“Do you get cold in your Spidey costume?” Ellie asked from right under Peter, making him jump back. He’d been too distracted to notice she stopped walking and was now staring up at him. “It’s winter. You’re gonna get the flu!.” She said pointedly, in a way that Peter was able to tell she was mimicking a lecture she’d heard a hundred times. 

 

The fact made him smile, but he just shrugged in response. “I guess a little. But I’m running a lot, so it doesn’t bother me.” 

 

“Do you want a jacket?” 

 

“What?” Peter blinked, but held out a hand with an embarrassed shake of his head. “No, wait, it’s okay-” 

 

Ellie disappeared a second later, her feet scampering up carpeted stairs up into the home. Peter stared at the spot she had been before he awkwardly made his way to the kitchen. He may as well start cooking while she looked for...whatever it was she was going to bring. After all, he really didn’t want to give any bad impressions to the neighbors if anyone happened to see him leaving. He wasn’t about to get accused of breaking and entering on top of all the other things the media criticized him for. 

 

The girl returned toting a bundle of clothing, which she promptly shoved into his hands. “There you go.” Ellie declared proudly, walking over to climb up on one of the barstools by the counter. “Now you can be warm.” 

 

“I thought you were grabbing a jacket?” Peter said in bewilderment, finding an entire outfit in his hands, including jeans and socks. 

 

“Well, you can’t go home as Spider-Man, duuuh. Don’t you need skyscrapers and stuff to swing your web things?” 

 

Right. This girl was smarter than he thought. 

 

“Whose are these?” Peter asked, realizing she had a point. He wasn’t really able hop on a bus in his mask without fare. 

 

“My brother Jake’s. But he doesn’t live here anymore. He moved to college.” Ellie pressed her knees onto the counter, peering up to try to see into the pan. “Are those pancakes?” 

 

“Mhm. Do you want syrup?” 

 

“Yeah.” Ellie bounced excitedly, making the stool under her jiggle. 

 

“Okay, I’m gonna change, you watch these and call me if they look like they’re going to burn.” Peter instructed, setting the spatula in his hand onto the counter. “I’ll come by again tonight and drop off your brother’s clothes.” 

 

Ellie nodded and concentrated hard on the steaming pan, taking her duty as pancake-watcher very seriously. Peter slipped off to what he assumed was the downstairs bathroom - he was right- and tucked himself inside before shutting the door. The outfit looked a little big, but he could tell her brother was lanky as well, so it wouldn’t be terrible. Pretty soon he emerged no longer wearing his suit and mask, the two bundled up in the jacket she had given him. Ellie greeted him with a wide grin, crawling off the counter to plop onto her stool. 

 

“Are they done?” She bubbled, as Peter flipped the pancakes and they sizzled against the pan. 

 

“Almost.” 

 

“Can you make extra, for my dad when he stops by?” 

 

“Sure. I thought your parents were out of town?” Peter double checked the bowl, before deciding he had enough to  make another few of them with the remaining batter. 

 

“My Mom and Dad are. Their names are Emily and Terry.  But my other Dad is still here. He’s my hero. He comes and visits me when he’s not busy. He’s calling me in sick to school today and taking me to the Aquarium!” Ellie’s smile was blinding. She clearly was excited for the day, if her rocking was any indication. “I like having you here, Spidey. You look like Jake. I miss him. Do you have a brother or sister?” 

 

“No, no. It’s just me.” Peter turned around and passed the plate of pancakes to her, pairing the syrup with it. “Okay. Food done. Do you need anything else? I need to get going.” 

 

“You’re not gonna eat?” She pouted, making Peter grin. 

 

“Sorry, Ellie. I  _ really  _ need to get home.” 

 

“Okaaaay...” 

 

“Can you make me a big big promise, though?” Peter asked, leaning on the counter so he was closer to her height. She piled her mouth full of a goop of the breakfast, nodding with inquisitive eyes. “Can you promise not to tell anyone who I am? I know it’s weird to find Spider-Man in your treehouse, but I have to keep my face a secret. To protect people I love.” 

 

“I can’t tell my friends or my Dad?” Ellie asked, clearly disappointed. “Even my best friend?” 

 

“Not even your best friend. Can this stay between us?” 

 

Ellie was quiet for a moment, as if thinking over the terms of their agreement, but she stuck her pinky out for him to take in his own. “I won’t tell anyone. I’m a good liar.” 

 

“Thanks.” Peter gave her one last high five before he gathered his stuff. He pulled a plastic bag from under the sink and shoved his jacket-wrapped-suit into it, dropping it over his arm. “Then I’ll see you tonight to bring the clothes back.” He promised, and walked to the door to carefully unlock it and pull it open. 

 

And there, standing just outside with his fist raised in a rapping motion, was none other than Wade mother-fucking Wilson. 

 

Confusion drew over both of their faces. There was a moment of stunned silence in which Wade looked down at Peter was if he was the strangest thing he had ever seen, and Peter’s cheeks turned beet red from the close proximity in which he stared up at Wade’s scarred face. He was dressed with a beanie tucked over most of his bald head, the rest of his body covered by a scarf, hoodie, mittens, and sweatpants. Despite the modesty, his eyes, cheeks, and nose were still immediately available to be seen. Neither moved for a solid 10 seconds. 

 

Until Ellie’s stool screeched across the tile floor and her tiny feet came running up behind Peter, her mouth still shoved full of pancakes and syrup on her fingertips. “Daddy!” 

 

“Hey, pumpkin!” The small child lept into Wade’s arms and he complied easily with her weight, half throwing her in the air to pull her up into his grasp. He planted a rough kiss to the top of her head, careful not to crush the bouquet of flowers tucked in his hand. “Ugh, you’re getting too heavy for me! Soon you’ll be bigger than I am!” 

 

“Stop, Daddy, I’ll never be  _ that _ big.” Ellie laughed, pushing her sticky fingers into his nose playfully.    
  


 

“You just wait. Here, these are for you.” Wade smiled, handing her the bouquet he must have gotten from a grocery store , and finally seemed to remember Peter was there and gawking at the ex-mercenary with a goddamn  _ child.  _ “So,uh, Petey-Pie? I’m sure you remember me, even if the suit hiding these devilishly-good looks is gone. Deadpool? Yeah, now that we got that out of the way...Why are you at my daughter’s house?” 

 

Peter’s lips opened in a shocked manner, and he really did mean to answer, but his mind suddenly went blank.  _ Because your kid found me pathetically sobbing in her tree house.  _ This would really be a funny story to tell Wade later, if it didn’t look so bad to anyone that didn’t know the situation. 

 

“He’s Jake’s friend. He babysits me while Gramma Ti is asleep.” Ellie interrupted, innocently staring at them.

 

Peter looked over at Ellie, shocked, blinking at the excuse she had come up with in no time. She wasn’t kidding when she said she was a good liar. She gave him a discreet grin, and he really could see the resemblance now between her and Wade. “Uh-huh.” He said lamely, turning his awkward expression up to the suspicious man. Wade didn’t speak, didn’t move, and Peter was sure he was toast and about to get charged for breaking and entering when all he wanted to do was feed a hungry kid. 

 

But then Wade broke out into a chill smile and he gave a shrug that made Peter instantly relax. “Really? Cool.” He let Ellie stand on her own two feet again, and she ran to take her space at her pancake breakfast. “And you made food? I must have died and gone to heaven, because I’m fucking starving and you’re looking like an angel right now.” 

 

“Oh, uh, thanks.” Peter quipped, his heart starting to beat harder and faster in his chest. It was barely 10 hours ago they’d parted on an uncomfortable note, and Peter was sure Wade wouldn’t have gotten over being kicked out so quickly. Wade walked past him anyways, heading towards the kitchen to get himself the last helping, leaving Peter to inch out the door.. “Well, since you’re here, I guess I’ll take off?” 

 

“Wait, wait, Petey, what about your pay?” Wade asked, pouring half a bottle of syrup onto his drowning breakfast. “Did they leave you money?” 

 

“It’s fine.” Peter said and waved his hands, trying to find any excuse to dip out,the bag with his suit feeling twice as heavy. “I’ll call Mary and Terry later.” 

 

“Emily and Terry.” Ellie whispered. 

 

Peter smiled sheepishly, rubbing his upper arm. “Emily and Terry, right. I’m terrible at names.” 

 

“But you’ve been crying.” Wade said, and pointedly looked up at Peter’s face, his expression notably more serious. “Why? Has everything been okay for you two?” 

 

Peter had forgotten, the ghost of his burning and swollen eyes being the only evidence left of his panic attack earlier in the day. His fingers brushed under his bottom eyelashes along the puffiness, and he swallowed hard. “Everything was fine.” 

 

“Hey, Ellie, wanna go get dressed for the best day ever?” Wade asked as he glanced over at his daughter. Her face lit up, and she gave an energetic nod. 

 

“Yeah! I’m gonna wear my new favorite pair of jeans.” 

 

“I bet they make you look badass.”

 

“Yup! I’ll be right back!” Ellie jumped from her stool and tumbled up the steps, leaving the two alone in the downstairs living room. 

 

Peter realized a second later that Wade was walking towards him, a determined look spread on his face. Mittens enclosed around his hands, tightly gripping them together, and his arms were jerked towards Wade who was way too close for Peter to keep a straight face. He subdued a startled noise, every muscle in his body tensing defensively. 

 

“I don’t believe in fate, but I think this is the closest I’ve ever found.” 

 

“C- _ come again? _ ” Peter croaked, trying to make sense of the situation. It was as if every dream he’d ever had about Wade was coming true, in a very unlikely way, and he had to remind himself he wasn’t asleep. There was no way Wade was confessing to him, right? 

 

“I think this is a sign, Petey. There’s no other explanation for all of this shit. I think you were made for me. Like Harry Styles and only buttoning the bottom half of his shirt.” Wade’s cracked lips were smiling so sincerely at him, Peter thought his heart would stop altogether. 

 

“Deadpool?” Peter breathed, feeling Wade’s grip on his hands tighten. “What do you mean?”

 

“I mean I’m not just your guardian angel. You’re my chance! To prove that I can be good and win the respect of the Avengers, Spider-Man, and Ellie.” Wade grinned, looking satisfied with his self-prophecy.

 

Peter choked on his breath, and his stomach dropped. Of course he had gotten his hopes up for nothing. What else did he expect? He was just the twerpy kid Wade was handling with daycare gloves so he wouldn’t end his life. He shoved the glimmer of optimism away, and took the chance to retrieve his hands, reeling apart from him. “You think I’m just a badge on your girl scout vest?” He grimaced.  

 

Wade was quick to recover. “Did I say that? I might have said that, but that’s not what I mean. I mean that I’m obviously not  _ only  _ trying to help you for the brownie points. I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to become more hero-ish and la-di-dah. But I don’t think it was just coincidence you were on my roof that night,” Peter winced. “And I don’t think I would have found you here unless you were put here. By...by destiny!”

 

“Destiny?” Peter repeated, as if Wade was joking. The unchanging, determined expression he held proved he was completely serious, and the lie suddenly seemed to swell twice what it had before.  _ What had he gotten himself into? _ “I-I guess...but, hey, I really should go if that’s okay with you? I have a lot of homework to do still, and if you don’t need me anymore…?” 

 

“Wait, if you stay, I’ll pay you twice what Emily usually does.” Wade said, holding out a halting hand. “You can hang out with us for a little bit, and I’ll even make a stop at your apartment in the cab to get you home. I read a Daddy article once that said kids are soup for the soul or some bullshit like that, but I think they were right! Ellie hung around me during the bad times and kept my knives out of people’s chests. It’s obvious you had a bad night, and I think she would be good in your rehabilitation.” 

 

Peter shifted and his plastic bag crinkled. His suit was still buried inside the jacket, and if he wanted to save his confession for a time that didn’t feel so precarious, he had to get it home and out of sight.

 

Besides that, when he glanced at the clock it was 7:15, and he was extremely late for class. 

 

“I can’t.” Peter finally sighed in guilt, combing his fingers through messy hair as he tried to map out a good reason. “My Aunt’s coming home soon and I should take advantage of the extra time to make sure the apartment is clean.” 

 

“Fine, I get it. You hate me.” Wade teased, much in a similar tone as Ellie had used earlier. At first glance, they didn’t look to be related, but the more the two of them talked, it was clear that they were. “What about tomorrow? It doesn’t even have to be a super long hangout. We can just go rob a bank or something. Kidding, of course. Ellie is more of an ATM whacker than anything.” 

 

“What are you saying, Dad?” Ellie called from the top of the stairs. 

 

“Nothing, sugar plum!” Wade yelled back, then turned to grin wide at Peter. “Pretty please?” 

 

Peter wanted to say no, he truly did, but there was something dazzling in the way Wade’s teeth were a bright white and contrasted with the raw, cracked skin of his lips. His heart thumped loudly against his rib cage and he tightened his grip on the bag. “Okay. Maybe for a little bit. I really do have to go, though, so if we could just discuss this later…?” 

 

“So it’s a date.” Wade declared, grabbing the door and holding it open for Peter. “See you then.” 

 

“Yep.” Peter choked as the word ‘date’ radiated through his thoughts. “See you then.” 

 

He felt almost dazed as he turned and half-leapt over the steps, pulling up Google Maps on his phone to plan his route home. He hadn’t intended to give in and agree to hang out with Wade, but it was just for a few hours. 

 

It’s not like something would go horribly wrong in just a few hours. 

 

\-----

 

Ellie awoke to a tapping on her window that night.

 

She drew her eyes open and rubbed them tiredly, a yawn racking her body. It took a few moments to realize the room was still very much dark, and she couldn’t have been asleep for more than a few hours. Unless she had slept through the entire day. Panic made her jump up to her feet. What if she had missed lunch? 

 

But before she could take off downstairs to ask her Daddy- still sleeping on the downstairs couch- why he hadn’t woken her up for an  _ entire  _ day, she noticed there was something white flapping in the breeze just outside. She carefully picked her way through toys to the window sill and peered outside. 

 

The tree branch that hung closest to the tree house had a plastic bag suspended a foot underneath, draped by a white rope. Looking closer, it was a Spider-man web, and just next to the bag was the hero himself, perched on the edge of her treehouse. He held a finger to his lips, making her giggle and return the gesture. 

 

Then quick as he had arrived, he shot a web from his wrists and leaped off the platform, disappearing into the night as she was left gaping in awe. 


	5. Thursday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry I was gone for so long!! I had comic-con this weekend and was working on my Voltron armor nonstop for weeks D: But the rest of the story is almost here!

**Day 5 - Thursday**

 

From the moment Peter opened his eyes something felt quite off. 

 

The day had started rather normally; his vintage alarm clock blared obnoxiously on his nightstand, the sound muted by a blanket of dust that had accumulated on the speaker. His curtains were drawn, giving the room a bluish tint as they did a terrible job at filtering the sun out, and he had eventually rolled out of bed once he couldn’t stand the way the volume of New York traffic attacked his eardrums any longer. From there he’d gone to get dressed, realized he had nothing clean, and threw his pile of dirty clothes in the washer, then proceeded to clear out piles of take-out containers and dishes from the sink to make the apartment look somewhat tidy for when Aunt May returned. Wade had texted him the night before, promising to pick him up around 10 AM. Peter felt uneasy about accepting the invitation, but he’d eventually come around to the idea once Ellie started leaving voicemails on his phone demanding he come. He couldn’t exactly deny her, especially when the child was threatening to blackmail him. It may have been intended as a joke, but he wouldn’t put it past any offspring of Deadpool to do. 

 

Despite his attempt at being productive, he had been unable to shake the heavy ball of dread parked in his stomach. There were a number of issues that could be the source, from the issue of Aunt May coming home to a messy apartment, to his secret that he was withholding from Wade, to the anticipation of their local news channels ripping him apart for what had occured in the city, yet it didn’t seem like any of that was causing the anxiety he had woken up with. It felt more like an instinct warning him that he should just go back to bed for the day. But he decided he couldn’t blow Wade off  _ again _ , so he pushed the fear down and shoved his suit and web shooters into the backpack that he slung over his shoulders. 

 

He hoped he wouldn’t need them, but they were just in case something actually did go wrong. 

 

There was a noisy, insistent banging on the front door by the time Peter’s clothes were dry and he was shoving a sweater over his head. He might have ignored the unnecessarily loud volume, but it was followed up with the unmistakably shrill voice of a young girl calling out to him.

 

“Peter!” Ellie screamed on the other side, tiny fists repeatedly rapping on his door in a manner that made his heart leap into his throat. “ _ HELP _ !” 

 

Peter had torn himself out of the laundry room, skirted the couch, and sprung over the back less than a second later. When he ripped open the door Ellie was in the midst of banging again on the wood, her eyes echoing her surprise as they widened and she slowly looked up at Peter. 

 

“What’s wrong?” Peter crouched and ushered her towards the living room. “Are you okay?” 

 

Ellie didn’t budge, stammering out an apology. Behind her, Wade was cracking up in laughter. 

 

“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have screamed, I-” She stammered out a  guilty apology, and Peter soon realized it was just a prank to make him run for the door. 

 

Wade really was a jerk sometimes.

 

“Oh. Did he put you up to this?” Peter asked, lowering his eyes into a heavy frown at Wade. This didn’t deter the mercenary from his giggle-fit, who apparently thought making Peter have a heart-attack was the funniest joke in the world. 

 

Ellie took a breath and dejectedly nodded, hanging her arms and bowing her head. “Daddy said it would be funny.” 

 

“I didn’t know you could move so fast, Petey!” Wade grinned. Ellie peeled out under Wade’s arms and took off down the hallway, running off to God-knows-where. “I heard you Usain Bolt’ing it from out here! Have you ever thought of becoming a runner?” 

 

“Hilarious, Deadpool.” Peter drug himself to his feet, though he was admittedly still on edge. He attributed the anxiety he’d woken up with to Wade’s stunt, but the feeling of anticipation still refused to dissipate.  “I dropped my bag inside when I felt my soul leave my body. Let me grab that, then I’m ready to go.” 

 

“Sounds like a plan, Petey! Be quick. We’re on a time crunch.” Wade briefly turned his head down the hallway, where Ellie had presumably gone. “El-Belle, you can’t pull on the fire alarm when people are walking by! Wait until they’re not looking. They jump higher when they don’t expect it.” 

 

Peter took that as his cue to be quick before he received a lengthy scolding from their landlord, and he shouldered his backpack once more before he joined Wade in the hall. Ellie scrambled down from the window sill she had been perched on, and shoved her fingers repeatedly onto the ‘down’ button on the elevator as they waited for it to arrive. 

 

“Where are we going?” Peter finally mustered the courage to ask, as he scuffed the toe of his shoe on the floor. Hanging around them still made him a bit jumpy, but from what he could tell Ellie hadn’t disclosed his secret to Wade yet. He wasn’t sure how long the child could withhold his identity, however. 

 

“The park.” Wade declared as the elevator doors slipped open with a soft ‘ding.’ The trio stepped in, and Ellie took on the task of pressing the button for the ground level floor. “Fresh air, plenty of pollen to aggravate the allergies and…” Wade quietly leaned in, and his pinky finger tickled Peter’s ear as he shielded his mouth. “Ellie has a crush on a boy from her school. His tyke football team practices there on Thursday afternoons so I wanted to take her to watch.” 

 

“Secrets don’t make friends!” Ellie declared loudly from the floor, stomping her foot. A light dusting of pink covered her cheeks, as she must have guessed what Wade was discussing out of earshot. “What did he tell you?”

 

Wade withdrew his lips as they spread into a crooked grin, and Peter simply shrugged in response. “Nothing important.” 

 

“Peteeeeeeer.” Ellie groaned in disappointment and crossed her arms. “I don’t wanna hear a peep outta both of you.” 

 

“Yes ma’am.” Wade saluted, and Peter held up his hands in surrender. She had leverage over him, after all, and she knew it. 

 

\----

 

The park Wade chose ended up being rather populated, so he, unsurprisingly, shoved his mask over his face when the taxi dropped them off and tugged his hoodie back over his head. Neither Ellie or Peter commented on this, which seemed to help him relax as they climbed out. Ellie took an immediate interest in a golden retriever trotting around in the grass, leaving Peter and Wade to meander awkwardly down the sidewalk behind her. 

 

“So, Petey, how ‘bout that fresh air.” Wade finally punched through the silence, taking in a dramatic sniff to accentuate his point. “Totally clears your mind, right?” 

 

“Sure, except all I can smell is your mask.” Peter cringed, stepping a foot away from him. “Seriously, dude, do you ever wash that thing?” 

 

“On the weekends…. In December. If I have company over. Otherwise I just let my body oils cleanse it.  _ Au naturale. _ ”

 

“Gross.” 

 

“I never said I had good hygiene.” 

 

Peter shook his head but a relaxed smile had taken over his lips. He really had been quite nervous about spending the day with the two of them, but despite the stares Wade earned because of his disguise, everything felt pretty...normal. The conversation between them during the taxi ride came easy, and was primarily dominated by Ellie chattering about school, her parents, and any other random facts that popped to mind. Even now that she was running off on her own, Peter didn’t feel half as awkward walking alone with Wade as he had expected to. 

 

“Your aunt’s coming back today, right?” Wade asked, and stretched his arms above his head. His muscles pulsed under the hoodie, and Peter forced his eyes to focus on the cracks in the side-walk passing by every so often. “Does that mean you don’t need me anymore?” 

 

“What? No.” Peter immediately answered. The way that Wade peeked over at him had his face flushing, and he tilted his head to hide his cheeks behind his hair just a bit more. “I-I mean, I obviously… still wanna be friends with you. Everything’s been weird. Really weird. But spending these past couple days with you…” He bit his lip. “I’ve really appreciated having you as a friend, Deadpool. Not a babysitter. Not a guardian angel. A friend.” 

 

Wade released an audible breath, and Peter was surprised he could hear it over his heart hammering in his ears. The mercenary took a bit to respond, but when he had, his voice was much lower than the playful tone he usually donned. “I like having you as a friend, too, Petey. Ellie also thinks you’re super awesome. She talked about you all night.” He paused. “None of my other friends have met her. I know I didn’t introduce you, but she’s the love of my life. I’m glad you know her.” 

 

The child in question looked back at them and pointed her finger at the fence. Just behind it was the football team they had come to see. Wade waved her off, and she sprinted at the fence at full speed to shout a greeting at the boy with long black hair. 

 

“She’s a really cute kid.” Peter smiled. 

 

“Listen.” Wade finally halted their progress once they’d nearly made a full loop around the park, cars passing by them and traffic nearly drowning him out. He stood his ground silently until Peter relented and faced him, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know what you’re feeling. I know how heavy everything is, but I promise this isn’t the end of your journey. You have so much more fucked up shit to live through, but you’re gonna love it in the end. You’ll be proud of it. Some of your mistakes can lead you to the best parts of your life.” He turned his head, ever so slightly, to glance over at Ellie clinging to the fence of the football field, still chattering with her male friend on the other side. “I’ve done a lot of messy things, and had a lot of messy things done to me. I’ve been on the ledge and taken that fall. More times than I could tell you, baby boy. But I’ll tell you one thing- you’ll find something worth surviving for. I want to help you find something to survive for.” 

 

Peter sucked in a breath through his teeth. If there was ever a time to tell him, he knew it was now. He couldn’t let Wade pour his heart out and not return the favor. But he couldn’t quite form the words. “D-Deadpool, I actually…needed to tell you something.” He mumbled, drawing his eyes towards the sidewalk. 

 

“I did, too.” Wade interrupted, on a roll, and apparently not willing to let that end. “Pete… these past few days have been crazy good. I know for you it might have felt like you were being stalked by a psycho in a suit, but for me… It was unbelievably fun. I feel like I’ve known you for years, not just a week. You didn’t freak out on me that night on the roof. You’ve never once questioned my suit, commented on my freak skin, asked me about my Avengers life... I know this might make me sound more batshit, pumpkin, I-” 

 

A shock ran up Peter’s spin so violent his body jerked immediately in response to look behind him. The next few seconds happened in a blur. 

 

A puppy ran into the street, leash free-flying and paws tripping over themselves as it chased its freedom. Behind it was a little girl in a red hat, arms outstretched, rain boots pounding against the asphalt. And just feet from her was a car barreling towards them down the one way going 15 over the speed limit. 

 

Peter didn’t even think before he shot forward. The rain-heavy air left dew on his cheeks and his breath puffed thickly in his lungs. He tore his hood down over his face, and dropped his backpack against the grass to give himself full use of his arms, allowing him to leap, grab hold of a tree branch, and swing over  group of onlookers just now turning to gape at the girl heading towards her death. The tips of his sneakers caught against the ground and sent his body springing forwards, past the girl between her and the oncoming vehicle. The horn blared, Peter threw his arms out, and to his right a man screamed in horror. 

 

Peter’s shoulders locked hard into place, ball clinking into socket, when the front of the car slammed into his palms. Yet he wasn’t the one to flip,as the car lurched up vertically and the woman driving opened her lips to shriek. He held his ground, moved only a foot by the time the car slammed back into the street and the windows shattered from the force. He only made eye contact with the woman a second longer, before her airbags deployed and she was lost behind them. 

 

He withdrew his arms and checked over his shoulder that the girl was alright, her lips drawn open in utter shock. Behind her people were gathering, staring, and pointing. Among them was Wade, frozen in place, who looked as if he’d just seen a ghost. 

 

But then Peter realized what truly had them frozen, and his fingertips shakily rose to touch his bare cheeks. A scrawny boy had just stopped a car with his bare hands, and his Spider-Man mask was nowhere to be found. 

 

Peter was stupid. He’d made a lot of mistakes in his life, but never this big. Never this public. Never in front of Wade. 

 

His instincts told him to flee. So he did. 

 

His legs tucked under him and he took off down the one-way, towards the onslaught of cars heading in their direction. He lept over one, rolled over the hood of another, and made it across the busy road before anyone could properly react. The familiar feeling of panic had settled in his chest from the night before, and he finally was able to recognize why he had woken up with the lump of dread clutching his heart. His chance at revealing his identity had been ripped away from him not only in front of Wade, but dozens of others who had witnessed him grab the hood of the speeding vehicle. After years of hiding his identity from the police and the Avengers, he was sure he was about to be outed to the world. 

 

The park wasn’t far off from his own neighborhood, but he knew he couldn’t go home in case anyone came looking for him. He couldn’t explain the anxiety attack to Aunt May, or see her face when the first news she saw when she came home was her nephew plastered on New York’s Most Wanted. He slowed his sprint to a brisk walk when he reached the more lively parts of Queens. He veered off his road and made his way towards the arrangement of houses in the more high-end area he definitely didn’t blend in with. Eventually he made his way into a cul-de-sac and hopped the fence of a white home. Peter didn’t bother with the front door, throwing himself halfway up the side-wall of house in one fluid jump, sticking to the brick. He climbed briskly up the  incline, and when he reached the second story bedroom with the pink curtains he tapped lightly on the glass. He didn’t wait for a reply before peeling open the window and tumbling inside. 

 

Mary Jane leapt off her computer chair with a surprised yelp when Peter’s body stopped its rolling and he ended up with his hands and knees digging into the carpet. 

 

“P-Peter?!” She gasped, a hand on her chest to calm the fear. The redhead pushed her bedroom door shut and flipped the lock, turning back to stare at the man who refused to return the look. “What’s going on? Are you crying?” 

 

Peter shook his head pathetically and stifled a wounded noise, dropping himself back onto his heels as he fisted the front of his hoodie. “I m-messed up big time, MJ.” He shuddered, his breathing feeling scorching hot through spasming lungs. “I ran into the street, the girl sh was gonna be hit. Everyone was watching. _Wade_ was watching. There’s no way they didn’t see my face. My mask was in my bag-” _Shit._ He was going to be sick. “Fuck, I-I left my backpack at the park!” 

 

“Okay, okay, Pete, just breathe.” Mary Jane was doing her best to comfort him through her own confusion, but she was just as startled as Peter. “I’ll call Harry, okay? He can go try to find your backpack. Things will be fine. You’ll be fine.” 

 

“Everything is ruined. Everyone’s gonna know. I shouldn’t have stopped the car. I should have just helped her. I’m gonna be sick.” 

 

He didn’t notice the pressure of her hand on his back leave until the rim of a trash can appeared in front of his face, and his stomach lurched in the next instant. The adrenaline forced every last piece of food he’d eaten that morning out of his throat, until he was left dry heaving over the can. His throat burned and his head was pounding, but his panic seemed to quell after that, leaving him with drying tears on his cheeks but a clearer mind. Now that he could properly think he dropped himself back to sit against her bed, clutching his temples with shaky fingers. MJ placed the trash can next to her bedroom door and took the spot next to him, pulling his head until it rested against the bones of her shoulder. 

 

After she had called Harry and he promised to go search for the bag, they basked in the silence of her secluded neighborhood, only broken occasionally by Peter’s sniffling or either of the pair shifting to get in a more comfortable position. Her thumb found his shoulder and rubbed firm circles along it, coaxing him to relax until the tears had stopped and he was able to sit up on his own. 

 

“So..” Mary Jane finally spoke, chewing on her lower lip. “The guy you’ve been talking to… it was Wade, wasn’t it? You guys went out today?” 

 

Peter breathed calculatedly, before deciding on a proper response. “Yeah. It was.” He muttered, his tone defeated. “It’s a long story. This whole week has been kind of crazy.” 

 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” 

 

Peter swallowed, his throat constricting. Still, after having to keep in all of the emotions he had been experiencing alone, he wouldn’t pass up the chance to get some of the pressure off his chest. 

 

“I guess all the insanity started on Sunday. I was gonna finally tell Wade who I was, and things just kinda got out of hand…” 

 


	6. Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One chapter left! It's already about halfway done, so the next update should be here within the week!

 

**Day 6- Friday**

 

Mary Jane was the angel in Peter’s life that he didn't deserve, but thoroughly appreciated.

 

Though the two had attempted to have a relationship after meeting their freshman year of college, by the end of the 3 months they’d become closer friends than they were romantic partners. The break-up had been a seamless transition, and with the expectations of intimacy being lifted from their shoulders, he found Mary Jane to be a reliable confidant and supporter. They told each other everything; she had been first to know about his feelings for Wade, and the second to find out about his superhero identity. Despite a bad reputation in the newspapers, she never criticized his actions or mistakes, and had always been an open ear when things went wrong and the world felt too heavy on his exhausted shoulders. 

 

Still, he had never made a mistake this public. While Ellie had found out who he was due to his bad judgement, he had been able to keep it under wraps and it was an easily mended situation. This time, however, he had the sinking feeling he had ruined his life in wake of saving two others. There were dozens of people watching, twice that driving by or skidding to a stop when he halted traffic, and worst of all, Wade found out Peter had been lying to him in a horribly impersonal way. 

 

Peter was still camping out on Mary Jane’s floor after his freak-out the night before. He wanted to go home to get out of her hair, but the thought of Wade showing up, or worse, the FBI showing up, and grilling him about his superhero abilities made him sick all over again. Mary Jane claimed she didn’t mind him hanging around, but he knew his stress was quickly becoming hers. Harry had been unable to find his backpack, and when he arrived to look for it the park had become a spot for a local news station to report on the ‘mystery man that stopped a car with his bare hands.’ So Peter sat cross-legged against the edge of her bed, flipping through news channels endlessly. The coverage on the event had been minimal, the best footage being of a mother video taping her children playing when it suddenly panned to the car slamming into the ground and him fleeing the scene. Still, he wasn’t sure if anyone had a dashcam that could have caught a glimpse of his face, or if a traffic camera may have been aimed at them. It was a waiting game now, either for new videos to be released, or for someone to divulge his facial features to the police. 

 

Peter’s phone buzzed again at his side, and he glanced at the screen halfheartedly. Wade had been texting him non-stop. Most of them he hadn’t read, but every so often he caught glimpses of messages. Apparently Wade had gone to his apartment the night before to locate him, but his neighbors had threatened to call the police when he wouldn’t stop banging on Peter’s window. A couple of the other messages he had read were begging him to call, or asking where he had gone, but for the most part Peter had blocked them out. He couldn’t bare to face him now. He’d accepted his help and affection despite not needing it, and lied to Wade for days in the process. All because he was selfish, and scared, and in love. Horribly, horribly in love. He regretted every day he had put off confessing. Now he didn’t have the chance. Just a lot to apologize for.

 

“Pete?” MJ turned in her computer chair to quirk an eyebrow at him, as he stared at the television screen. He knew he looked as trashed as he felt. His brown eyes were hidden behind puffy lids weighed down by dark circles, his wavy hair was a mussed and tangled pile, and his clothes were disheveled and sitting awkwardly on his body. By contrast she was showered and well-put together, her lips pursed in concern and thought as she watched him. “Maybe you should take a break from your hunt. You’ll only stress yourself out more. Let’s go get lunch somewhere. I’ll set notifications on my news app for anything with your name or Spider-Man’s.” 

 

Peter slowly shook his head and let the remote fall to the carpet, leaving the channel flipped on a segment about health care. He ran the palms of his hands over his eyes, a shudder rushing through his body. “I can’t eat anything. I feel too sick.” He mumbled, and finally dropped his head back against her mattress. He wished he could will away the day before, go back and redo it all to stop the dog before it even got close to the street, but he knew he would have to accept and deal with the consequences. Any dwindling hope that maybe he hadn’t been identified was crushed as soon as it materialized. He’d rather be prepared to be unmasked than taken by surprise when his face was thrust up onto the Times Square billboards requesting his arrest. 

 

“You won’t know until you try, dummy.” Mary Jane walked over to where he was and dropped her hands to her hips, waiting impatiently for an answer. “I don’t like to see you moping so much. Watching the video, it all happened so fast, that the people watching probably couldn’t even remember your hair color, much less what you looked like. Stop being so pessimistic and go get pizza with me.” 

 

Peter didn’t want to leave the room. His obsession with searching at least somewhat distracted him from letting the memory play on a loop. But the next moment his phone went off again, and another text from Wade popped up on the screen. 

 

**please tell me you’re still alive**

 

Peter grabbed his phone and blocked Wade’s number the next second. It made a wave of nausea rush over him to think Wade still cared about his safety even after he had been deceived. 

 

“Okay, let’s go.” Peter groaned, and pushed himself to his feet. His toes tingled as the blood flow returned to them, and he grabbed his sweater that had been thrown on the floor to pull on. “But if you see  _ anything,  _ please let me know.” 

 

“As long as you promise not to ask me to check every minute.” 

 

Peter breathed out calculatedly. “I’ll try.” 

 

“And not every 5 minutes, either. I want a normal lunch with my best friend to help him calm down from a stressful week.” 

 

The corners of his lips perked, and he finished adjusting his sweater and tossing his hair into a somewhat presentable style. “Every half-hour?” 

 

Mary Jane thought for a moment, but shrugged good naturedly. “That’s a fair trade. Now let’s turn off this old-lady daytime television and get out into the world, Parker!” 

 

They escaped out the door before Peter could change his mind, and took off on foot towards the pizza cafe they’d made a second home over the past 4 years. From study sessions to scarfing down comfort food, it had served its purpose as a cheap hangout joint for them to talk out their feelings. Even now, as Peter was riddled with so much anxiety his hands hadn’t stopped trembling for the past 24 hours, he felt himself start to relax when they entered the familiar hole-in-the-wall establishment. The smell of burnt crust wafted past his nose and a football game buzzed noisily on a small TV, but it was distracting enough to his senses that he was able to ignore the thoughts of dread for a bit. 

  
  


“So...about Wade.” Mary Jane finally spoke once they’d put in their order with the teenager working the counter and claimed a spot in the corner. Peter had his back to the door, just to feel a bit more hidden from sight. “Did you ever actually tell him how you feel?” 

 

Peter paused mid-sip of his water, the liquid suddenly feeling ice cold on his tongue. He set it down, and swallowed through the tightness of his throat. “...No.” He finally sighed, chewing on the inside of his bottom lip. “I mean, I didn’t think he would ever really  _ see me  _ that way. Even as Peter and not...” He gestured to the air. “...he complimented me and stuff, but I never got the feeling he, like,  _ liked _ me.” 

 

“But you didn’t ask?” 

 

“I thought it made more sense to tell him who I was first.” Peter said in distress, dropping his chin onto his hand. “I guess it just never felt right. He talked to me the same in and out of the mask. Wade’s just overly friendly. He thinks it’s funny.” 

 

“Uh-huh.” Mary Jane looked unimpressed, but her thoughts were interrupted when their slices were dropped off. They both thanked the waitress, and the red head immediately leaned in again. “From what you told me, it sounds like he was interested in a little more than coddling you. He asked you to go out with him and his daughter to the aquarium. That sounds more like a date.” 

 

Peter knew his cheeks were flushing red, and his phone sat a bit heavier in his pocket. Maybe Wade’s texts were more worried than they were malicious. Even after royally screwing up, Wade just wanted to make sure he was okay. He looked down at the grease dripping onto his plate, reflecting on the week.

 

But then he remembered the astonished expression on his face when Peter had jumped out into the street and the thought vanished. 

 

“It doesn’t matter anymore. I already blocked his number. He’ll give up in an hour, and then I’ll just have to avoid him on patrol for the rest of my life. If I’m not arrested for being a vigilante and resisting arrest a thousand times first.” Peter sat back with a look of defeat and determined he wasn’t hungry anymore, pushing his plate a few inches away from him. 

 

Mary Jane just shook her head and went back to eating. “It’ll be okay, Pete.” She said between bites. “You just gotta try to think positively.” 

 

“That’s kinda hard to do when my suit got jacked along with homework that  _ clearly _ has my name written on it, and all I can do is wait for someone to turn it into the police. And I’m a coward, MJ. Aunt May is at our apartment alone, and people could show up at any moment looking for me. She could get hurt. You could get hurt. And that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to avoid all these years.” Peter huffed and dragged his arms in to cross over his chest, twisting to look back at the TV. “I messed up, and I hurt everyone in the process. Positive thinking is stupid. It won’t stop anyone from coming after the people I care about.” 

 

Mary Jane pushed her plate forward as well, and it  _ clinked _ as the two collided in the center. “I get that you’re stressed, Pete, but when you’re done being a jerk, we can talk.” She said as she stood up and started to lift her purse on over her shoulders. Peter turned back around, shame tugging at his features. “Positive thinking isn’t stupid, it just keeps you from freaking out on the people trying to help you. I’m not saying everything is going to be perfect, but it’s better to have hope than to wallow in your self-pity.” 

 

“Hey, MJ, I’m sorry.” Peter stood as well, the chair scraping the floor. “I shouldn’t have been mean.” 

 

“You’re right, you shouldn’t have. Go home. Get sleep. Be there for Aunt May in case she needs you. You aren’t helpless just because you don’t have a mask to hide behind. And for god’s sake, just call Wade. He obviously cares about you.” She sighed, and tucked a strand of cherry red hair behind her ear. “You know I wanna help you. I’m sorry you’re going through this. But life has a funny way of working out sometimes. Just try to make it through the day? Please?” 

 

Mary Jane said goodbye to the waitresses before waving at Peter, as he slowly sunk back down in his seat. She was right. He shouldn’t be ignoring Wade. Not when he had been the one to lie. He owed him an explanation as to why he hadn’t been honest in the first place. 

 

Peter pulled out his wallet and set down all the change he had as an apology tip, tossing his slice of pizza on the way out. Aunt May had been on vacation for too long, and he should at least be there to greet her. Especially if something went wrong and he was taken away without notice. 

 

He hopped on a bus a few blocks down and planted himself near the front, before drawing his phone out. The texts from Wade had stopped coming through, but he was still easy to locate. He hesitated, but eventually pressed the UNBLOCK button and closed out of the app. 

 

He would call him later, but he needed to collect himself. The first way to do that was to see Aunt May. 

 

\--

 

“May?” Peter pushed open the door and peeked past the frame, studying the inside of the apartment. It certainly looked more clean than how he had left it the morning before, so there was no doubt she had been home. Whether she was still home after not having her texts returned the entire day was the question. “May?” He repeated, stepping inside and shutting the door almost silently behind him. 

 

His senses alerted him to the scuffle of a slipper on tile, and a grey-haired face popped around the corner.

 

“Hey, you’re home.” Peter greeted, toeing his shoes off into the rack by the door, before walking closer. “Glad you made it home sa-” 

 

“Peter. Benjamin. Parker.” Aunt May stepped fully into view, tugging tautly on a towel she had been drying her hands on. Peter immediately winced and backed away, but that didn’t stop the older woman from coming at him with an irritated stride. “Do you know how worried I was when I got home and you were nowhere to be found? I got you that phone for a reason! Use it!” Her towel snapped and lightly hit his forearm. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but Peter jumped and massaged the spot anyways. “I thought you had suffocated under the mounds of trash and laundry you let collect in your room!” 

 

“Sorry.” Peter said honestly, relieved to see her again. After the crazy week he had been put through, he desperately wanted his Aunt back. “A lot happened, and I spent the night at Mary Jane’s. I didn’t mean to ignore you.” 

 

“You look heartbroken.” Aunt May commented, simmering down as she studied his limp body language. Concern replaced the anger on her face. “Is everything alright?” 

 

“No.” Peter said honestly, turning his face down towards the floor. He felt pathetic, especially when she placed her soft hands against both shoulders and gave them a comforting squeeze. “I made a lot of mistakes these past couple of days. I may have hurt someone I really...like? And I feel like my life is ruined on top of it all.” 

 

“Did you apologize?” May tugged on his arm, prompting him towards the couch. He followed her obediently, and she guided him to sit on the cushions beside her.

 

“Not yet. We haven’t spoken since yesterday.” Peter leaned his head against her shoulder, and her fingers found his hair to run through it comfortingly. “I want to. I just don’t know what to say.” 

 

“You’re a good and humble boy. I’m sure you know what to say to him in your heart.” May dragged her fingers through his bed head, and he made a choking sound at her pronoun choice. “Is it not a man?” 

 

Her motherly instinct would always outsmart his secrecy. “It is.” 

 

“Is he a good person?” 

 

“...He is.” 

 

“Does he care about you as well?” 

 

Peter swallowed the knot that formed in his throat. “I-I think so. I don’t know if it’s  _ that _ way, but we’re close friends.” 

 

“Friends will forgive each other. It may take time, and it may be uncomfortable, but you can’t hide your feelings forever, Peter. You should be honest if you want to keep him close..”  May kissed the top of his head, and he sunk further into the couch. She was always the voice of reason, even if it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. “I know you’ll make the right choice. You care too much about others. That’s one of the things I love so much about you. Do you want to tell me exactly what happened?” 

 

“It’s a lot.” Peter mumbled. “Basically, I just… lied. I took advantage of his kindness. I don’t know why I didn’t tell him the truth, but I just got so comfortable in the lie that I didn’t bother to correct it. And then he found out what I was lying about, but so did others, and I feel like my world is crashing down, even if it isn’t yet. But I know there’s the chance it might and I can’t stop freaking out over it… does this make any sense?” 

 

May chuckled and shook her head at his rambling. “Can you be more specific? Or is this one of those times it’s better to just now know?” 

 

“Better to not know. If that’s okay.” 

 

“Well, you’re alive, you’re healthy, and you have a good heart. There’s nothing you can’t fix as long as you have your smile.” May rubbed his shoulder again, and pulled herself to her feet to walk back to the kitchen. “You go call your friend and apologize, honey, and I’ll finish getting dinner in the crock pot.” 

 

Peter released a shaky breath, but he eventually stood as well. “Thanks, May. I’m glad to have you home.” He found his phone and located Wade’s number, his finger hesitating over the call button. 

 

As he moved to close his door, her voice shouted out once more. “And clean that room!” 

 

“Got it!” Peter laughed back, before he took the plunge and pressed the green phone on screen. The sound of ringing made him tense, but he eventually managed the courage to hold the phone to his ear. 

 

When Wade picked up, there was a set of gunshots from the other end. 

 

“Wade? Are you okay?” Peter asked immediately.. A man shouted, and the phone shuffled. 

 

“Petey! Bad timing, but I’m so so glad to hear from you.” Wade gasped, out of breath. It sounded like he was running, but Peter couldn’t be sure over the cracking of bullets and distant threats being screamed on the other end. “I got the notification you blocked my texts and I figured you had thrown yourself off the Empire State Building or something and your phone company just didn’t want the extra charges. Hold on one second.  _ Guess you shoulda brought that Gram-Gram of yours with you, huh? At least she could hit me- fuck! Watch it! Not the face!” _ Wade slammed an object and a person yelled out in pain. “In a job, sorry, sweetums. Some old lady mob boss has her grandson running a human trafficking ring, so I gotta play cops and robbers and clean it all up. Anyways, it was kinda shitty to run off like that yesterday without saying anything. Ellie was really disappointed...and so was I. I don’t know your story, but shit, you couldn’t even tell me you were superpowered?” 

 

Peter cleared his throat, guilt weighing heavily on his heart.  Wade hadn’t realized yet exactly who Peter was. Which meant he still had to figure out how to tell him. “I’m sorry. I know I can’t explain what I did, or why I did it, but I want you to know that I didn’t mean to put off telling you for so long.” He could barely get the words out, unsure how to explain his true feelings without giving away everything. Another round of bullets went off, and Wade cursed again. “Dude, do you need help? You sound like you’re having a hard time.” 

 

“Well, originally this was a game of cat and mice, me being the cat obviously, but they just brought out a bunch of guns, so now it’s more like cat trying not to get sprayed because I just repaired and washed this suit yesterday, and all of the mice are on steroids. If you wanna haul that tight-but-scarily-strong-ass down here, I’m sure we could scare them off.  But judging by how long you ignored me, I’m guessing you don’t wanna do that, baby boy.” 

 

“Okay, um, can I just talk to you tomorrow? In person? I would rather discuss this when you’re not, like, trying to stay alive. I also lost my backpack, which had things I really can’t lose in it, and I’m freaking out a little.” 

 

“Oh, I grabbed that.” 

 

“What?” Peter gasped, instant relief flooding him. 

 

“Yeah, I texted you this morning. Guess you didn’t read my texts, though. Didn’t want you losing your homework or anything.” Wade grunted as he slammed another object, and his katanas slid across one another with a sharp  _ zing _ . “I was gonna dump it at your apartment, but I got a little distracted by work and hanging out with my gal pals.” He joked as another man screamed. 

 

“...Did you look inside?” 

 

Wade didn’t answer, sounding like he was ripping open a pocket on his belt. After a few seconds, he finally responded. “No. Should I have?” 

 

Peter didn’t want to lie anymore. He  _ couldn’t _ lie anymore. Wade deserved so much more than that. So he took a brave breath, and shoved down his fear. “Yeah. Go ahead. And then we can meet up tomorrow and I can explain everything. I won’t leave out any details this time.” 

 

“You aren’t secretly part of the X-Factor, are you? Those guys keep ignoring my birthday party invites.” 

 

Peter cracked an uncomfortably smile, and he looked down at his feet. “No, I’m not a mutant. But I’ll see you tomorrow and things will make more sense.” 

 

“See you tomorrow.” Wade agreed. “No more secrets or lies or anything, though, okay? I actually care about you and wanna be there for you and all that shit.” Then the line cut off. 

  
  


He drew his phone down from his face and clicked on Mary Jane’s contact. He wouldn’t feel okay until he apologized to her, too. 

 

Peter would still have to keep an eye on the news, but for the most part, the major cause of his anxiety had diminished. At least he knew where his suit was, even if he didn’t have it in his possession. 

 

Tomorrow, Wade would know he was Spider-Man. 

 

For the first time that day, he started to feel a twinge of hope in his chest. Maybe things would end up being okay after all.

 


	7. Saturday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOOOOOD. I can't believe this fic is finally done!! I was supposed to have it finished back in July for the bang, but I'm honestly so glad I took my time! I took a completely different direction in a LOT of parts than I originally intended, and this story was only supposed to be about 10-14k words when I first planned it. 
> 
> As always a HUGE thank you to my beta alurkerofnote on tumblr! They were so patient with me through this entire process and offered so much help! This story wouldn't have been the same without them c: Especially the ending lol. I definitely originally ended it about halfway through this story, but they inspired me to write more and I'm way happier with it now!! 
> 
> Thanks for all the support!

**Day 7- Saturday**

 

Januarys in the bronx were still one of Peter’s least favorite times of the year. Still, he couldn’t deny that even in the most affordable areas of the borough, where the buildings were low and the streets were littered with trash, the snow made the city feel entirely new. Rather than grime coating the sidewalks, streetlights reflected off the layer of powder and filled the roads with a soft glow. The snowfall had started a few hours ago, as the sun started to sink behind the tallest structures in the distance, and the temperature began to drop. Frozen weather was one of Peter’s worst enemies, typically spending his nights running around the city in a spandex suit, but tonight he stood wrapped in a heavy winter jacket and jeans. Tonight the snow was okay, granting Peter one last calm before the storm that would send his two lives crashing into one another. 

 

Peter’s eyes were closed, shut so tightly he was seeing stars, when there was a soft rattle against the brick wall opposite of him. Leather boots were scuffing the rungs of the fire escape leading up, and Peter didn’t have the energy to even consider running the time. He balanced on the ledge under his feet, steadying his frayed nerves. Wade was understanding. Wade was kind. Peter had been able to see those facts more clearly than ever over the past week. Even so, Peter had lied to him consistently, invaded his family, and accidentally elicited his care through the idea that he was going to take his own life otherwise. He couldn’t expect forgiveness, or acceptance. He was fully prepared to lose Wade just when he felt their relationship had ascended beyond work-friends, and the barriers that had existed between them had just begun to shatter. They had been intimate beyond their masks and careers; Wade had revealed feelings he would only brush off as a joke when with Spider-Man, and Peter had let him see parts of his life he couldn’t throw into casual conversation during their late night escapades. His feelings were hot in his throat, particularly the attraction he had been hiding for years. 

 

Wade finally made it to the rooftop, and Peter felt the familiar regret of his decision to unmask a week ago. He would accept just being friends over losing Wade any day. So he swallowed back the word  _ love _ and turned to face his fears head on. 

 

Wade wasn’t wearing his suit. Peter had seen his skin on multiple occasions, and Wade had grown less shy about his appearance over the time they spent hanging around one another, but he typically didn’t take off his suit or mask unless required. But on his face was an unreadable expression; the ridges where his eyebrows would be were drawn together, and he stared at Peter as if he was meeting him for the very first time. Peter opened his lips to speak, but no sound escaped him, and they silently clamped shut. 

 

Wade had the grey canvas bag that Peter had lost days ago in hand. He tossed it forward, and it landed with a heavy thump against the snow just inches in front of the ledge. Peter dropped down and retrieved it, checking his suit pieces were inside, before slinging it silently over his shoulder. 

 

“Hey, Spidey.” Wade muttered. “Thought I’d find you here.”

 

Peter nodded slowly, shame spreading hot over his neck. 

 

“Ellie ratted you out.” Wade admitted, shifting awkwardly, as if he was just as weary of this conversation as Peter felt. “Gotta say, I’m a little jealous my 8 year old found out who you were before me.” 

 

Peter grimaced, his eyes taking a sudden interest in the patterns his sole left in the snow covering the rooftop. “Sorry, Wade, I- I meant to tell you. I really wasn’t planning...anything that happened. That’s why I was here that night. I was waiting for you.” 

 

“Why now?” Wade asked, a frown pulling his features down. The question jarred Peter, and he had to ask himself the same thing. “After years of being besties and kicking ass, why did you decide now to show me your face? I never expected you to.”

 

“I know, I..” Peter swallowed against the dryness in his throat, struggling to form a clear answer. It had just felt like such an obvious idea in the moment of insecurity, but now he wasn’t so sure. “God, we’ve just been friends for so long.” Peter’s mouth was spitting out an answer faster than his brain, but he rolled with it. “I wanted you to get to know me more. And I  _ trust you _ . I trust you with my life.” 

 

“But you trust me less than a child?”

 

Peter winced. “That was an accident. I didn’t mean for her to find out.”

 

“You made my daughter lie to me, Pete.” 

 

“I had no idea that was your daughter’s house. I wouldn’t have gone there if I did. It just would have looked really bad if you found out in that moment.” 

 

“I would have understood. Surprisingly, I’m not as stupid as I might seem.” It was clear to see Wade was growing more upset, and Peter’s heart thumped loudly in his chest. The last thing he had wanted to do was betray him. “Were you ever planning to tell me? Or just laugh at me every time I came to see you? Did you call your pals up at the Avengers and let them make fun of me, too?  ‘Deadpool tried to turn over a new leaf and take care of someone else for once, but it was Spider-Man all along! What a fucking idiot!’” A cruel smile spread over his chapped lips, white teeth sneering.

 

Peter’s eyes widened, and he held up his hands defensively. This was going worse than he had expected. “No, it was never like that! I was never laughing at you. I never meant to hurt you. I  _ wanted _ to tell you who I was from the start! But I’ve kept my identity a secret for so long, I just don’t even know  _ how _ to tell people. I like being your friend. I like being around you. But it felt so wrong hiding who I was when you were so open about you, and I guess I didn’t want to be stuck just as coworkers or occasional partners or friends. I wanted more… I  _ want  _ more, Wade. Even if I completely messed up.”

 

In the heavy silence that settled between them, Peter realized exactly what he had just confessed to. Panic crossed his face and bloomed in his chest, amplified by Wade’s own shocked expression and lack of response. 

 

Finally, just as Peter was on the brink of having a full fledged anxiety attack, Wade spoke. 

 

“You’re going to tell me that after making me find out who you were by digging through your shit?” Wade’s voice was quiet, and more serious than Peter had ever heard him. 

 

Despite everything in his head telling Peter to run away before the situation got too tense, his heart was urging him to bare all the hidden emotions he’d been bottling for ages. For once he disregarded his logic, and took a brave breath. “Yeah.” He answered, more meekly than intended. “I did wrong. I’m sorry. I know I can’t even begin to apologize enough, but I’m really, really sorry.”  

 

“I don’t think I can do this tonight.” Wade muttered, and rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes travelled back to the ladder he had just climbed up, and Peter could see him bracing himself to make his way back down. He wanted to take a step closer, to stop him, but he couldn’t convince himself to move. “I got a lot of stuff to take care of.” 

 

“Do you need help with anything?” Peter asked, his tone still nervous.

 

Wade shook his head, and a half hearted, crooked grin appeared on his face. “Nah, I’m moving safehouses, baby boy. Just gotta finish breaking things and dumping the evidence.” 

 

Peter’s heart skipped a beat. “You’re leaving?” He blinked, his stomach twisting at the loss. “Where? Why?” 

 

“Emily and Terry are back. Ellie’s in school. Jobs are done. I thought I was keeping a cute kid from offing himself, but obviously that was fake. We only go out on patrol once every few weeks, if you’re not busy playing house with the Avengers.” Wade shrugged, yawning nonchalantly. “I have nothing else keeping me here. So I’m picking another big city and splitting. Was thinking Detroit. There’s always a lot of work out there for me.” Wade took a few steps back and jumped backwards off the building, grabbing hold of the ladder as he fell and stopping his descent when only his head still poked over the roof. “Better get started. Your suit and everything is in your backpack, by the way, don’t worry. I didn’t steal anything. You can trust me on that, at least. Oh, and Ellie says hey. She wanted me to make sure you were okay, but I figured you could always go tell her yourself.” 

 

Peter was left gaping as the ladder rattled and Wade slid down it without even touching the steps. The window to his second story apartment opened and shut in the darkness below, and suddenly the snow falling on his nose felt quite a bit colder. 

 

\----

**Last Thursday**

 

By the time Wade had broken his trance, people were already helping the driver out of her car, and Ellie was again at his side, pulling on his sleeve. He tore his eyes off the broken glass outlining the shape of sneaker prints on the road, down to the wide-eyed stare of his daughter, desperately trying to get his attention. 

 

“Did Peter do that?” She asked quietly, worry etched into her features. Wade hadn’t even been sure she was watching, but he was glad that his vision hadn’t been deceiving him. He did, indeed, watch the puny kid leap over a group of people as effortlessly as stepping over a puddle of spit on the sidewalk, barrel roll out in front of a speeding car, and catch it with his bare hands, all without breaking a sweat. Even as the kid took off on foot and disappeared  _ through _ traffic, he was left gaping at the spot he had been as if he’d wake up from an acid trip and find Peter standing back at his side. But when he looked back up, the woman was being checked over by pedestrians, and a few people were getting off the phone with emergency dispatch. 

 

“I think so.” Wade finally dumbly spit out. 

 

[Obviously it was him, bozo! We were all watching!]

 

{I was staring at his ass. Thank Odin for skinny jeans}

 

“Where did he go? We should go find him, Daddy.” Ellie continued to pester, pulling harder on his sleeve. 

 

“I don’t think he’s anywhere nearby, princess.” Wade swallowed. His eyes trained on a dirty looking man picking up the backpack Peter had been wearing that he’d abandoned in the grass, now soaked through bottom with dew. He was always talking about making sure his homework was done, and Wade wasn’t sure using the excuse of  _ ‘I lost it when I ran out into the street and almost fucking died’  _ would work on his professors. “Stay here.” 

 

He jogged over to the man and tapped his shoulder, who spun defensively with an annoyed look. “That’s my friend’s. Wanna hand it over?” Wade asked, though there was no plan for him to accept  _ ‘no _ ’ as an answer.

 

“Fuck off, costume freak. This is mine.” The man hissed out, and tried to walk away, but Wade reached out to grab his shirt to anchor him in his place. 

 

[Don’t take our Peter’s stuff!] 

 

{Yeah, if anyone’s gonna steal from him, it’ll be us!}

  
  


“Hey, there’s kids here. Watch the language. Also, my daughter’s right over there,” he pointed, “ and I’m trying to make her think I’m a good person now and all that. Don’t make me get pissy and hurt you. Now, let’s try this again, shall we? Hand over the stupid backpack.” Wade said with a sweeter tone.

 

Eventually the man relented and Wade wrenched the bag out of his grip, pushing him backwards. The man stumbled, before he fell on his ass against the sidewalk, throwing a death glare up at Wade. “F-Fuck you, asshole!”

 

When Wade turned around, he was met with Ellie standing there with her hands on her hips, clearly unimpressed with his violence. “Daddy.” She warned. “You said you’d be good.” 

 

Wade paused, looked back at the man, and patted his head like an angry puppy. “Sorry. Seriously, though, get that potty mouth in check.” He half-apologized, and then retreated back to the young girl who still seemed annoyed. “I think it’s time to head home, yeah? I’ll call our taxi.” 

 

“But Peter.” Ellie insisted again. “I don’t want him to be hurt!” 

 

“For being your babysitter, you don’t seem that surprised by what he just did.” Wade said suspiciously, sending his location to Dopinder over text and requesting an SOS. 

 

“Oh, uh…” Ellie dug her shoe into a crack in the sidewalk, suddenly more interested in the mud caked there than answering Wade. She jumped when he crouched next to her, his mask staring down at her face. 

 

“You knew?” He asked quietly. “Did Peter tell you?” 

 

“He told me I can’t tell anyone. Not even you. Not even my best friend.” Ellie whispered back guiltily, unable to stand still under his pressing gaze. “Peter said it was a big secret. But he didn’t tell me, Daddy. I found out by accident. When he was in my treehouse.” 

 

“Why was Peter in your tree house?” 

 

Ellie’s eyes widened when she realized she had said too much, and threw both hands up to cover her mouth the next moment. “I can’t say anything else. I would be breaking our secret ninja code.” 

 

“Well, poop, I can’t break secret ninja code.” Wade sighed defeatedly, and he stood again, holding out his free hand to her. “Fine, fine, I won’t make you tell me. I’ll ask Pete myself.” 

 

{If he ever talks to us again. He’s super strong, and super fine. Why would he want to hang around someone with the face of a moldy fruitcake? We’re lucky he even came today!} 

 

“Can I come with you?” Ellie pleaded. 

 

“Yeah, sure. I’ll text him now. If he responds and says yes, we can go check on him and bring him his backpack.” Wade walked to the sidewalk where Dopinder had dropped them off half-an-hour ago, waiting with her for him to roll back around. 

 

“What if he says no?” 

 

Wade paused, and then chuckled and shook his head. “Then we’ll go bother him anyways!” 

 

\---

 

**Day 8- Sunday**

 

At 2:30 in the morning, Peter’s knuckled rapped gently against Wade’s window. 

 

He withdrew his gloved hand, though he could see through the torn curtains that the living room light was still flickering out of the cheap bulb installed overhead. He trained his ears to listen inside the apartment, and could briefly hear a clattering inside that halted at his knocking. He wasn’t sure if Wade would answer, or leave him shivering and clinging to the side of his apartment building. He was dressed only in his spidey suit and his skin was turning blue under the spandex. The snow was still falling, silent and steady, and the spots it landed melted through the fabric and froze his shoulders. On any other normal occasion, he would have chosen to throw on a sweater between dealing with criminals, but tonight he wanted to be as presentable as possible. 

 

Heavy feet made their way towards the window, but it was clear they were in no rush to get there. Peter was sure Wade knew it was him, which explained the hesitancy in his steps, but eventually the curtains were drawn back and Wade’s blue eyes pierced through the window pane and stared back at him. Neither moved for a few seconds, both frozen in their eye contact, until Peter gave an awkward wave and Wade hit the lock sideways on the window. The mercenary turned to walk back towards his bedroom, leaving Peter to stick his fingertips to the surface of the glass and peel the window upwards. When it was cracked open he slotted his fingers in the opening it made and pulled it fully open, twisting and swinging in through the space he created. He landed with a soft thud just inside, standing up straight. 

 

“What’s up?” Wade didn’t turn to face him, choosing instead to grab a box of gun ammo and dump it into a duffel bag bent open on the floor. Peter felt his chest constrict in panic, both at the idea that Wade was serious about leaving, and for what he was about to do. He willed his heart to beat slower in his chest, and reached up towards his head. “Thought you would be out on patrol by now-” 

 

“I’m Peter Parker.” 

 

Peter pulled off his mask, his brown hair sticking up from the static momentarily before it fell back into a neat stack. Wade twisted around with a perplexed look, his lips opening as if to say ‘I knew that.’ Before he could, however, the young man  walked closer towards him determinedly. “I’m 22 years old. My birthday was last year in October, so yes, I’m legal to drink, since you keep asking. No, I don’t plan on going to your friend’s bar.” 

 

“Uhhh…” Wade turned fully to face him, staring down at the kid barely a foot away. He looked thoroughly confused but too baffled to comment. 

 

“I’m getting my bachelors in biophysics at the end of spring term, and then moving on to a graduate program in biochemistry. I go to ESU four days a week, and most of the time I’m late to my first class because of Spidey business, but I’m still trying really hard to stay on Honor’s list. I live with my Aunt and she’s amazing and doesn’t make me pay rent, but I still help with bills when I can. I’m just a freelance photographer at the Daily Bugle, though, so I don’t make very much on top of having to pay for school. I was born and raised in Queens, and my three best friends are Mary Jane Watson, Harry Osborn, and Wade Wilson. And recently I’ve been really shitty to _all_ _of them_ , and I wanna make up for it.” Peter finished off the last line with the little breath he still had, inhaled, and continued on with his quick rambling. 

 

“And  _ this _ is how I should have introduced myself last Sunday. I shouldn’t have panicked and lied. I shouldn’t have let anxiety stop me from coming clean all those times. But I have to say, I’m really thankful for you taking care of me this week. Because Wade, you  _ were _ helping someone. I may have super powers, I may be Spider-Man, but I never once was unhonest about my feelings. I didn’t realize how much I needed you until you were there, and the time I spent with you, and with Ellie... It meant a lot. I don’t think I can fix things, or make up for what I did, but I just want you to know I was never laughing at you. I was happy to spend time with you. I wanted you to get to know  _ me _ , and I went about it in the wrong way, and I’m sorry.” Peter stuck his hand out, almost bumping his fingertips with Wade’s chest, and sheepishly smiled up at him. “But it’s nice to officially meet you, and I’m really hoping we can start over.” 

 

Wade gaped down at him, and Peter tried not to focus on the sound of his blood pumping through his ears as the nerves built. His hand started to waver the longer that Wade chose not to respond, and by the minute mark he thought he might have a heart attack. However, not long after that, Wade raised a scarred hand and took Peter’s within his own, shaking it firmly. Peter looked down in surprise as their fingers brushed one another, and by the time Wade withdrew his hand, Peter wished he had held on just a bit longer. 

 

“Did you mean that?” Wade asked, quietly, his voice as stoic as it had been on the roof. “About needing me, helping you, and wanting to spend time with me and junk?” 

 

Peter’s heart leapt nervously, but he nodded. “Mhm.” 

 

“You like me?” Wade asked again to clarify. 

 

“...Yeah. I like you, Wade. A lot.” 

 

“You  _ Like-Like _ me?” 

 

Was he trying to kill him? Peter groaned and dropped his head into his hands, the embarrassment growing darker on his cheeks. “This is humiliating enough without you talking to me like a little kid.” 

 

“Sorry, sweetums.” Wade’s lips finally split into a chuckle, and Peter watched his feet take steps closer through holes in his fingers. Wade's hand ran down his arm in a sweet way, and the simple action warmed him more than his long sleeves ever could. “I just wanted to make sure.” His arms laced around Peter, a soft pressure surrounding him, and when he finally drug his hands away from his face, he found Wade watching him with a softened expression. “Are you still thinking about jumping?” He murmured, holding tighter as if that was the last thing he wanted Peter to do right now. 

 

“Jumping…? Wade, did you listen to anything I just explained?” Peter tried to look annoyed, but the expression melted away into a grin of disbelief at that fact Wade still hadn’t grasped this. “I literally just said I was here waiting for you, not because I was considering that.” 

 

“Just checking.” Wade hummed innocently into Peter’s hair, pressing his scarred forehead against the tufts of brunette. “I didn’t expect this, just to be clear. I didn’t care if you decided to keep a mask on and cover all that nerdy handsomeness for the rest of your life. But I’m glad you trust me enough to show me.” 

 

Peter felt his cheeks heat up at his word choice, and he wriggled out of his hold and walked towards the window. “Also, one more thing. It’s technically Sunday, so..” He bent over the window sill for a moment to reach down into the darkness, and ripped webbing off of a bag stuck to the wall outside. When he returned back inside the apartment, the smell of spanish rice and enchiladas wafted through the grimy living room. “I brought a peace offering.” 

 

“Daaaaamn, honey, you do know how to apologize.” Wade reached out for the bag, but Peter held it out of reach behind him. “What?” 

 

“You have to promise not to leave because of me.” Peter said pointedly. “If it’s because you actually don’t want to stay here, I can’t stop you. But if it’s because you were mad at me, don’t just pack up and go. I haven’t finished making it up to you, and I plan to keep trying. Don’t take that chance away from me.” 

 

Wade sucked in a breath through his nose, then released it with a nod. “Okay, I’ll stay. But really, it’s rude to buy food for us and tease me with it. Fork it over and you can keep telling me all the things about you I never got to know.”

 

Peter’s lips twitched and he finally handed the food over to the greedy man, plopping down on the couch beside him. Things weren’t the same, and they never would be, but really, that might be for the better. From nights spent curled up on Wade’s sofa with his feet in his lap, to times they were silently comforting one another on particularly hard days, Peter was glad he could do it without a big obstacle standing in their way. Wade knew about his feelings, and Peter hoped, eventually he’d get a sign that Wade felt the same. 

 

Wade kicked up his legs on the coffee table and passed Peter the second container of food. Peter took it with a small smile and set it down in his lap, but before he could take his hand off of it, Wade’s much larger once reached over and rested on top. He turned his head up to meet his gaze and felt a light squeeze around his fingers, before Wade drew back his arm and started to open his take out box.    
  


“Anyways, back to talking about you. There’s a few things I’ve had questions about for years, but couldn’t ask.” Wade said before he shoved his mouthful of food, his eyes studying his face, as if it was the first time he’d ever seen it. 

 

“I’ll do my best to answer them. As long as it’s not crazy invasive or sexual.” Peter looked back down to his box and started to uncover it, but his hand was still tingling from where Wade had just grabbed it. 

 

“Aww, baby boy, you’re ruining all the fun.” 

 

Maybe that was his sign. Maybe it wasn’t. He had waited 2 years for this moment, and he didn’t mind taking more time to figure it all out. 

  
  


\-----

 

Peter had planned to leave Wade’s apartment by the morning. However, by the time the sun rose outside and was filtering through the sheets functioning as makeshift curtains, he hadn’t even made a move for the window to head home. 

 

Peter was draped over Wade’s sofa, one leg hanging off the side while the other was propped up on the armrest. Wade himself was laying on the floor just a bit away, his duffel bag full of ammo functioning as a pillow, with his hands crossed reservedly over his chest. They’d finished their food hours ago, somewhere between Peter talking about his childhood and Wade disclosing the circumstances of Ellie’s birth and ultimately meeting her. From there, they’d relaxed into familiar patterns of lounging and joking. Wade had started out as an ottoman for Peter to lay his feet against, before he’d eventually rolled off the couch to stretch his back out against the ground. Humorous conversations transitioned gradually into emotional ones and Peter found himself divulging secrets he couldn’t have revealed to Wade before. Their voices had dropped to a whisper and they were and drunk on exhaustion, but it seemed to help the honesty come more naturally. 

 

Peter felt a tickling on his calf, and when he glanced down, Wade’s toe was sketching out the web lining on his suit. His cheeks went pink, but he didn’t comment on the fact. 

 

“So that’s how Spider-Man came to be? No meteor hitting Earth or deadly scientist experiments? You were just a bullied nerd that got assaulted by a fucking spider?” Wade grinned, focused on his task of making Peter’s skin grow goosebumps. “And the web shooters? Petey, you coulda chosen a thousand other weapons. But you chose to shoot sticky white stuff out of your wrists and swing from it. That’s both kinda dirty and kinda hilarious.” 

 

“Well, it works.” Peter grumbled defensively, and jumped when he felt his a hand closing around his gloves. He looked down to see Wade trying rip them off, and he quickly jerked his hand back. “What are you doing?” 

 

“I wanna see them. I bet you’re just trying to hide a place on your arms that  _ actual _ webs come out of that you’re too embarrassed about.” Wade teased, and reached up for his hand again. “C’ _ moooon _ . If you’ve got nothing to hide then you’ll show me.” 

 

“I don’t have anything to hide.” Peter flushed, scowling when Wade snatched his hand again. “D-Dude, there’s nothing there!” He tried to sound offended, but it came out as a gasping laugh as they played tug-of-war over his wrist. “I’m gonna fall, w-wait, Wade!” 

 

Despite his warnings, Wade gave a pull hard enough that Peter’s weightless body rolled off the couch, landing face-first on Wade’s chest, his fingers still trapped in Wade’s hand. Peter blinked and slowly peeled his head off of the dark grey material of his hoodie, turning his gaze up to find Wade’s eyes just a few inches away, gaping back down at him. He felt his limbs grow rigid and his mind went blank, unable to process the correct response. Should he make a stupid joke? Apologize even though Wade had been the one to make him fall? Maybe get off of him like any normal person would do? 

 

“Uh… sorry.” Peter spluttered, and lifted his free arm to push against the floor to help himself get up. Before he could properly move, however, he felt a hand press on the small of his back and it drug his hips back down against Wade’s pelvis. Wade curled his lips in a smirk, and Peter swallowed in response. “Um.” 

 

“Stay.” Wade murmured, and let his eyes roll back up towards the ceiling again. His hand holding Peter’s hostage adjusted, and he quietly filled the spaces between Peter’s fingers with his own. Peter hesitated, tensely trying to make up his mind on whether he was having a fever dream or not, but Wade’s fingers massaged his back trying to coax him into relaxing, and he eventually managed to. Peter’s head turned until his cheek pressed against the curve of Wade’s sternum, just above his heart. He could faintly hear its beat, steadily pounding, while Peter’s own was fluttering like the snowflakes still falling against the window.

 

Peter had grown to fall in love with sunrises. While much of New York buzzed with the clamoring of busy lives at all hours of the day, he’d found a particular neighborhood in Brooklyn that seemed to exist outside the realm of daily excitement. On weekends he didn’t have school or other various responsibilities, he raced the darkness to arrive just before daybreak, and perched in whichever tree offered the biggest branch to rest against. There was something magical in the solitude, in watching the people of his city come alive, hearing their presence swell as families left for school and work, and trains started to run through their normal routes. He’d always wanted to share the experience with another person, but he had never really found someone he was comfortable basking in the quiet presence of. Someone where talking wasn’t a necessity, and they were able to appreciate the moment in silence.

 

Neither Wade or Peter spoke. The sunlight finally reached the holes in the curtain and warmed where their feet curled against one another, and outside the window, the bustle of the Bronx began to crescendo. 

 

“Is this alright?” Wade eventually spoke, his arm slackening its hold slightly. Typically, he didn’t ask permission before touching him, but Peter had the feeling he was asking about a lot more than whether their resting position was comfortable. 

 

“Yeah.” Peter murmured back against the heaviness blanketing them, his breathing slow and focused, as he registered where and how their bodies were touching. “This is definitely okay.” 

 

They were quiet a bit longer, occasionally shifting to adjust slipping legs or to curl their fingers closer together. 

 

“I didn't say it earlier, and I should have, but I really like you, too.” Wade murmured, his voice low and drawn out, rumbling against Peter's cheek. The brunette audibly caught his breath, but didn't interrupt. “It's just still blowing my mind a little. This whole week I thought I was cheating on my love for Spidey with my attraction for you...I didn't know I could actually get the best of both worlds.”

 

Peter was too caught off guard to speak. Under his ear, he could hear Wade's heartbeat getting faster. 

 

“I wish you hadn't lied to me. But I know the past is a bitch and there's no point in trying to change it. I'm just glad you came back. People like me don't deserve  _ this _ . I don't deserve someone as good as you wanting to be this close to a shit pile like me. But I've dreamt about this for too long not to take my chance. I don't know what you see in me, but I'm not gonna try to convince you otherwise.” 

 

“I was such a jerk this week. I really am sorry.” Peter grimaced. “But seriously, Wade, don’t sell yourself short. There's a  _ lot _ to like about you.”

 

“At least you see it that way.” Wade chuckled, and his fingertips began to paint patterns over Peter’s back. “I won’t question it as long as you don’t come to your senses.” 

 

Peter bit his lip, melting under the sensation of his tracing. There was still one question sitting hotly on the back of his tongue, scorching his throat with nerves. He couldn’t think of a better time to ask it, though, and he willed his jaw to comply so he could speak. “If I had told you that night, when we first saw one another on your roof...what would you have thought?” 

 

Wade paused, and he squeezed his hand lightly. “I think I would have asked you to marry me on the spot.” 

 

Peter looked up at him with wide eyes, before Wade shook his head with a snort. “Bad joke. Sorry. But I have to say, I always assumed you would end up being this cute. I just wish we coulda got to the snuggling and bumping uglies a whole lot sooner.” 

 

Peter’s face went bright red, and he self consciously wriggled his hips away from Wade’s so they rested more against his side. “We’re definitely not doing that right now.” He said, flustered. 

 

“Not yet.” Wade winked, holding onto Peter tighter and letting his hands wander with a suggestive look on his face. “But we could be.” 

 

“Let go of my ass.” 

 

“But Peter-Pie, I’ve wanted to do this for  _ ages. _ ” 

 

“You do it all the time!” 

 

“To Spidey! And you always hit me! Just once, let me do it to the nerdy boy of my dreams.” 

 

“Wade!” 

 

“That’s not the last time you’ll be calling my name today.” 

 

“I really hate you sometimes.”

 

\---

**One Month Later**

 

“Ellie knows Spider-Man. So you better stop picking on us, or he’ll come beat you guys up!” 

 

Ellie looked over at her best friend, Mason, her jaw hanging open with utter betrayal written across her face. Mason appeared as if he’d start crying any moment, dirt scuffs on his cheeks from where the bullies had smushed his head into the muddy snow. He and Ellie had been reenacting a monster truck rally after school in the mounds in his yard when the 5th grade kids walked by, and the excitable 8 year olds had always been their target of choice. 

 

“Spider-Man? Yeah, right.” The biggest of the two kids laughed, kicking snow up so it flew at their faces, and they had to shield their eyes and noses with their sleeves. “Watching the news and playing make-believe isn’t knowing him.” 

 

“She actually knows Spider-Man! He hid in her tree house once and cooked her pancakes!” Mason challenged, hopping up onto his feet and stomping the ground. 

 

“Mason!” Ellie cried, reaching out to tug on his arm. “It’s secret ninja code not to talk about it. You promised!” 

 

“Stupid liars.” The other older boy rolled his eyes, and pushed both Ellie and Mason back until they tripped and fell onto their butts. “C’mon, let’s go. They don’t know any superheroes. They’re just dumb little kids.” 

 

Ellie huffed as they turned their backs, sitting up and glaring at them. “I wish they would stop being such jerk-faces.” She grumbled. “I could call Spider-Man right now and he’d have to show up, because I know secrets about him.” 

 

“You  _ should _ call him.” Mason looked at her, tears poking at the corners of his eyes in frustration. “Maybe Spider-Man could hang them from a flagpole by their underwear, and when everyone sees and laughs they’ll leave us alone.” 

 

Ellie pursed her lips in thought. It wasn’t a  _ terrible  _ idea…

 

She stood up and brushed the snow off her pants, before jumping over their makeshift truck course. “I’ll be right back!” She called over her shoulder and ran towards her house at the end of the block. Wade had told her to only use Peter’s number for emergencies, but not getting picked on seemed like a pretty good emergency to her. 

 

She threw the door open and ran immediately to her house phone, clicking through the programmed numbers until she found Peter. She hit enter, waited for the numbers to dial, and bounced on the balls of her feet as the line rang. 

 

“Hello?” Peter finally answered, one ring before she was going to be sent to voicemail. 

 

“Peter, it’s Ellie!” She declared, and she could hear him hesitate. “Eleanor Camacho.” She clarified. 

 

“I know it’s you, Ellie.” Peter said with a short laugh, though he sounded a bit rushed. “I was...um, about to go out and do my  _ job _ . Is anything wrong?” 

 

“Actually, yeah, I need your help. It’s a big emergency.” 

 

\--

 

And that was how an hour later, Spider-Man ended up giving a speech on bullying to two 5th grade boys, as Deadpool held them firmly by their shoulders and Ellie and Mason stood smugly behind them. 

 

Life was a lot easier when your Daddy was boyfriends with a superhero as cool as Spider-Man.

 

She knew her dad thought so, too. When they let the kids go and had escorted Mason back to his house, Peter swung all three of them over the fence into her backyard, setting them down just in front of her sliding glass door. Emily and Terry were inside, but Ellie was pretty sure they hadn’t seen them yet.    
  


“Thank you, Spider-Man.” Ellie flashed her best smile, staring up at the two taller men. She knew she was going to get an earful from her dad for telling Peter he  _ had _ to help her because she had kept his identity so well, and wasn’t sure if she’d  _ always _ be able to when being bullied, but she hoped she’d avoid it with her charming personality alone. “Those guys were really mean to me.” 

 

“So about that phone call…” Her dad’s tone was way too fakely sweet, she knew she was in for it. She cowered back a few steps, a guilty look crossing her face. “What did we say about-?” 

 

“Wade, it’s fine.” Peter said, stepping past her her dad towards her. He crouched just in front of her, and placed a soft hand on her shoulder. “If you ever need help, you can always call me. Just maybe less threatening, okay?” 

 

Ellie nodded vigorously, her curly hair blinding her for a moment before she pushed it out of her face. “Less threatening, I promise.” She said back with a smile, and lowered her voice to a whisper. “Peter...can I ask you a question, since you’re here?”

 

He tilted his head slightly, but nodded. “What’s up?”

 

Ellie looked down at the front of her shirt and began picking at the fuzz on her sweater to give herself somewhere else to look besides her reflection in the whites of his lenses. ““Um..do you… love my dad?” She mumbled.

 

She could see him freeze a bit out of the corner of her eye, and his hand squeezed against her shoulder lightly. “I do.” 

 

“That’s good.” Ellie said, pulling up another fuzzball.  “When he first met me he was a little angrier. I asked if he and my Mommy were in love  and if she thought it was cool he was a superhero, and he told me no one could love him and not to call him a hero ever again.” Ellie turned her eyes back up to his mask, smiling warmly at him. “But he’s my superhero. So I wanted to make sure someone loved him. So he can be happy.” 

 

Peter made a weird noise in the back of his throat. It took him a moment to respond, but he breathed out a laugh and moved his hand from her shoulder up to ruffle her hair.. “Wanna know a secret?” He asked, and turned to glance over at her Dad, who tried to look as if he wasn’t eavesdropping the whole time. “He’s my hero, too.” 

 

Peter stood and ran over to where her dad was waiting,  and pulled him onto his back. He jumped in the air, his wrists shooting out as a web caught on her neighbors house and he tugged on it, dragging their bodies forward as they flew over the fence. Ellie watched as they swung away together and she grinned, glancing back over at her treehouse tucked in the tallest oak. 

 

Life was definitely better with her Dad and Peter in it. 


End file.
